Decisions Last Forever
by MelodyAnne
Summary: A mother's descision to leave. A father's descision to keep a secret. A daughter's life lived never knowing. And one young girl determined to find the the truth. [COMPLETE]
1. I Believe It's Your Mother

Chapter 1: I Believe It's Your Mother  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias or any of the characters seen in this story (except Lorrie and Kaitlyn and Jamie and Lorrie's dad and Danny's mother and may be a few more).  
  
A/N: I'm starting off with this fic trying out something new. I'm trying to use a direct quote from one of the characters to name each chapter. But this may not work out, so don't be too surprised if the names of the chapters change, okay?  
  
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"Mrs. Hecht, it's time for lunch!" twelve-year-old Lorrie Miller complained sharply.  
  
Sydney looked up to find Lorrie standing in front of her desk, hands on her hips, and 24 other sixth graders staring at her. Lorrie must have been trying to get her attention and, in the process, attracted the attention of everyone in the room, effectively putting an end to the day's lessons.  
  
"Oh, right," Sydney mumbled, standing and trying to get her mind off of what two-year-old Jaime might have done in day-care that day. "Line up."  
  
Lorrie stalked to the front of the line with an exaggerated sigh. Sydney shook her head. Normally a favorite among her students, she didn't understand what Lorrie had against her. It was only November, Sydney decided quickly. She had plenty of time to figure out why Lorrie didn't like her.  
  
Sydney took her lunch to the teachers' lounge and took advantage of the brief respite to call the daycare to check on Jaime. after all, he was a year old and hadn't reacted well at all to leaving his mother when she'd started working again in September, and the head of the nursery, Kaitlyn, still had a lot of trouble with him when he woke form his nap unable to find his mother.  
  
"Kaitlyn," she said, relieved to hear the woman's voice unaccompanied by an infant's screams. "I was just checking that Jaime went down for his nap okay. He was extra fussy this morning," she added, recalling her struggle to get him into his tiny sweater that morning.  
  
"That's the odd thing, Sydney," Kaitlyn replied. "He was very fussy this morning, but he went right to sleep and didn't cry at all."  
  
"You don't think he's sick, do you? There's been a bug going around up here, he could have caught it."  
  
"He doesn't have a fever, but that's what I was thinking. I'll be sure to call you if he does start running a temperature, though. It's likely that it's nothing more than he tired himself out this morning. I just think we should keep an eye on him. Stuff has been going around. But I'm sure he'll be fine," Kaitlyn assured her.  
  
"Okay. But don't hesitate to call me. Debbie will understand," she said, referring to the principal.   
  
"I won't. I know that if he's sick I won't e able to handle him anyway," Kaitlyn laughed. "Don't worry."  
  
"I'll try. Thanks, Kaitlyn."  
  
"No problem. Now go eat."  
  
Sydney laughed. "I think I will."  
  
Sydney walked into the lunchroom and found herself searching for Lorrie. The girl was sitting all alone, not eating, at a small corner table. It occurred to Sydney that she seemed to be trying not to cry.  
  
"Mind if I sit with you?" Sydney asked brightly, keeping her voice carefully indifferent.  
  
Lorrie's eyes snapped up from where they'd been focused on the white table top to glare at Sydney.  
  
"The teachers' table is over there," Lorrie snapped, jerking her head toward it.  
  
"It's a little crowded. You seem to have some extra space here, and you looked like you could use some company," Sydney commented, sitting down without waiting for an invitation.  
  
Lorrie shrugged. "I like eating alone," she said pointedly as it became clear to her that her teacher had no intention of leaving.  
  
"Aren't you hungry?" Sydney asked, ignoring her statement.  
  
"No," Lorrie said quickly, but she eyed Sydney's sandwich hungrily.  
  
Sydney tore the sandwich in two and handed half to Lorrie. "You don't like soft tacos?" she asked, glancing disgustedly at the lunches most of the kids had purchased. "Neither do I. Now real tacos, that's another story."  
  
Lorrie nibbled at the sandwich and eyed Sydney warily.  
  
"Why do you try to talk to me?" she asked suddenly, interrupting Sydney's one-sided conversation on Mexican food.  
  
"You looked like you could use some company," Sydney replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I prefer to talk to one or two people at a time."  
  
"Oh," Lorrie said like she didn't really care.  
  
"Why do you dislike me?" Sydney asked after a pause.  
  
"Huh?!?" Lorrie sputtered.  
  
"I answered your question, so I thought I'd ask one of my own. Why do you dislike me?" Sydney repeated calmly.  
  
"I…I don't…I mean…" Lorrie dropped her gaze back to the table and was silent for so long that Sydney didn't think she was going to answer. "You remind me of my mother," she finally muttered.  
  
Sydney felt a wave of pity for her.  
  
"What happened to your mother?" Sydney asked quietly.  
  
"Why do you care?" Lorrie snapped. "You prob'ly come from some perfect little family…"  
  
"You'd be amazed. My mother died when I was six," Sydney said softly, dropping her eyes.  
  
Lorrie looked up sharply. "Really?" Sydney nodded. "Sorry," she mumbled.  
  
"So what happened?" Sydney prodded gently.  
  
Lorrie swallowed. "Car crash," she squeaked.  
  
"That's how my mom died. It's hard. Especially since they never found my mom's body afterward."  
  
Lorrie looked up again, her eyes wide with surprise.  
  
"My mom…she died in a car crash years ago, and…the police never found her body. My dad said…" Lorrie stopped and tried to stem the flow of tears that threatened to fall.  
  
"Come on ," Sydney said, standing. "We'll talk somewhere else."  
  
Lorrie nodded and stood, biting her lip. Sydney led her into the deserted teachers' room and indicated the chairs surrounding the conference table.  
  
"What did your dad say?" Sydney asked gently, thinking of the distance her own father had put between himself and hid young daughter after Laura Bristow's death.  
  
"Daddy believes Mom ran away. He's had private detectives looking for her ever since the cops said she was dead," Lorrie sobbed, no longer able to hold onto her control. "My mom would never have done that! She loved me! She even loved Daddy!"  
  
"Your mad at your dad?" Sydney asked, picking up on the fact quickly.  
  
"We moved a couple of weeks after mom died, and he said it was just to get away. But I heard him tell his detective that we really moved because he thought she might come here!"  
  
Sydney hugged the sobbing girl, wondering what she had gotten into but not really minding.  
  
"He's never around any more! All he does is read those stupid reports his detectives give him and work! He won't even look at me any more, I look too much like her!"  
  
These same thoughts had crossed Sydney's mind in the years after her mother's death. She stroked Lorrie's hair, her own dark chestnut hair almost the same shade.  
  
"Have you talked to anyone else about this?" Sydney asked.   
  
Lorrie shook her head. "Nobody would have cared."  
  
"I care," Sydney said softly. "I know what it's like to loose your mother. It'll get better."  
  
"But what if Daddy's right?" Lorrie wailed miserably. "What if Mom did leave? How could she leave us to think she was dead?"  
  
"Your mother couldn't do that. I'm sure she couldn't," Sydney whispered soothingly.  
  
Just then a voice came over the PA system: "Mrs. Hecht, please come to the office, you have a phone call."  
  
Sydney sighed. "Will you be okay here for a minute, Lorrie? I'll be right back, but I'm afraid this might be about my son."  
  
Lorrie nodded.  
  
"I'll came right back. I promise."  
  
Sydney walked quickly toward the office, sure this meant Jaime was sick after all. And if Kaitlin was willing to wait while they paged her, it must be bad…  
  
"I have a phone call?" Sydney asked the secretary as she breezed into the office.  
  
"Yes," the older woman said pleasantly. "I believe it's your mother."  
  
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A bit sloppy, but my first chapters are always that way. Besides, I started school just before I started this story, and high school is definitely more hectic than I expected it to be! This should at least keep you interested…my loyal readers know I'm a master of cliff hangers any way… 


	2. We're In This Together

Chapter 2: We're in this together  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias or any of the characters seen in this story (except Lorrie and Kaitlyn and Jamie and Lorrie's dad and Danny's mother and may be a few more).  
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Sydney laughed. "That's unlikely. It must be my mother-in-law."  
  
"I was sure she said she was your mother. My mistake, I suppose," she replied, passing Sydney the phone from behind the desk.  
  
"Lydia?" Sydney said, expecting to hear Danny's mother invite her to dinner that night, or to some other social event.  
  
"Sydney?" another voice said apprehensively.  
  
That voice sent Sydney plunging back twenty years, into memories she had long since hidden away and forgotten. Family outings, baking cookies, tea parties, dolls…Sydney shook herself back to the present.  
  
"Who is this?" she snapped unintentionally.   
  
"Sydney, I hoped you'd remember. This would be so much easier…" the voice said sadly.  
  
"Who is this?" She raised her voice slightly, but just enough for the secretary to look at her worriedly.  
  
"Sydney, I need to see you," the voice said. "I'll call you when you get home. If Danny answers the phone, I'll have to hang up. Please don't tell him anything. Or your father. Don't tell anyone about this please." The voice sounded almost frantic.  
  
Sydney heard the click of the receiver being replaced. She stared at the phone for a second before handing it back to the secretary and walking quickly from the office before the woman could ask any questions. She had completely forgotten about Lorrie until she reentered the lounge to find her. By the time she remembered why the girl was there, she had no time to hide her confusion before Lorrie read it plainly on her face.  
  
"What's wrong?" Lorrie asked, having calmed down during Sydney's absence. "Is your baby sick?"  
  
Sydney could only shake her head and sit down dazedly in a chair next to Lorrie.  
  
"You look like you just saw a ghost," Lorrie commented.  
  
"I think," Sydney started, hardly believing the words as she said them, "I…just spoke to…my…mother."  
  
Lorrie stared at her. "But you said she died!" she cried accusingly. "How could she call you?"  
  
"I…don't know." Lorrie stared at her, so she continued. "If you heard your mother's voice right now, would you recognize it?"  
  
"Of course," Lorrie said readily.  
  
"So would I," Sydney said simply.  
  
"But…how…" Lorrie sputtered.  
  
"I don't know," Sydney mumbled.  
  
Suddenly Sydney glanced at her watch. They had five minutes before she had to get her class.  
  
"I live behind you," Lorrie admitted. "I see you outside sometimes."  
  
"I've never seen you," Sydney said distractedly.  
  
"I don't spend much time outside," Lorrie said almost as distractedly.  
  
Sydney thought of something. "Lorrie, could I drive you home today? We could talk."  
  
"But I'm supposed to ride the bus…And can't you get in trouble?" Lorrie asked.  
  
"No one has to know. Besides, your dad won't notice, will he? I'd like to get a chance to talk to you for a little while. Okay?"  
  
Lorrie was quiet for a second before she answered. "Okay. I hate the bus anyway."  
  
"Come to my room at the end of the day. Come on. Lunch is over," Sydney said quickly.  
  
"Mrs. Hecht…" Lorrie said softly before they walked out of the lounge. Sydney stopped and turned to face her.  
  
"What is it?" she asked.  
  
"Do you really think that was your mother on the phone?"  
  
"Yes. I think so. Whoever it was said she'd call me at home later, so we'll find out."  
  
"We?" Lorrie asked.  
  
"Yes, we," Sydney said firmly as they hurried back to the lunchroom.  
  
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Lorrie seemed uneasy as she slipped into the passenger seat of Sydney's SUV. She sat stiffly as Sydney drove away from the school, and didn't seem to relax when they were out of danger of being caught.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sydney asked, glancing quickly at her.  
  
"Nothing. I've just never had a teacher take me home before," Lorrie said simply.  
  
"You don't like the idea?" Sydney asked, grinning.  
  
"I didn't think I would."  
  
Sydney sighed. "Lorrie, could you tell me more about…your mother's accident?" she asked softly.  
  
"Why?" Lorrie snapped, instantly guarded again.  
  
"Well…it sounds like what happened to my mother. You were a little older than I was when it happened, so may be you noticed some things that a six-year-old might miss," Sydney explained calmly, not showing that Lorrie's reaction bothered her.  
  
Lorrie hung her head. "She drove off a bridge. They said her braked failed. I thought it was strange, because she'd just had new brakes put on two days before. But the didn't want to listen to me. I was just a little kid. The cops said her body must have been washed downstream, but Daddy said he didn't think that was possible from where they found her car. Then I realized he thought she'd run away. I was really mad. I didn't talk to him for weeks. By the time I would speak to him again, he was all caught up in finding Mom. You believed your mom was dead, though, didn't you?" Lorrie asked suddenly.  
  
"I did," Sydney said. "I don't see how she could be alive. Surely she wouldn't have done that to me and Dad?" she added absently.   
  
"Now you sound like me."  
  
"I do, don't I? See, we're in this together," Sydney said. "I have to stop and pick up my son," she explained when she pulled up in front of the day-care. "Do you want to come in with me?"  
  
Lorrie shrugged. "Okay."  
  
Kaitlyn was waiting for Sydney just inside the door. "Sydney, he's been a little angel…Who's this?" she asked, looking at Lorrie.  
  
"This is Lorrie, one of my students," Sydney said. "So Jaime was good? No problems?"  
  
"None at all. He was just cranky this morning. He didn't even cry when he woke up. Whoa!" she gasped when Jaime twisted in her arms and lunged at his mother.  
  
"Come here, baby. Are you glad to see Mommy?" Sydney cooed.  
  
"Ma-ee!" he cried joyfully.  
  
Lorrie laughed.  
  
"Do you want to hold him?" Sydney asked her.  
  
"Uh…" Lorrie stepped away quickly. "I don't think so."  
  
"Why not? Jaime just loves to meet new people, don't you baby?" she added when Jaime cooed.  
  
"No, thanks. You keep him," Lorrie said loudly.  
  
This time Kaitlyn laughed.  
  
"He's not a disease, girl, just a baby. And Syd, since when has this child like meeting new people? I have to take him everyday because none of the other girls will!"  
  
Lorrie blushed bright red. "I've just never held a baby," she muttered.  
  
"You haven't? Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we?" Sydney said, depositing her squirming son in Lorrie's arms.  
  
"Mrs. Hecht, take him back, please! I'm going to drop him! Please!" Lorrie cried.  
  
"Jaime, be still!" Sydney scolded. "Lorrie, just hold onto him. You won't drop him. Don't worry," Sydney laughed, finally taking Jaime back. "Come here, you little squirt," she said, laughing as he blew a raspberry at her. "Stop that."  
  
"I'll see you in the morning, Syd. If we're lucky, he'll be in a good mood tomorrow, too," Kaitlyn said.  
  
"Not likely. Come on, Lorrie, he's not going to bite you," Sydney teased, and Lorrie blushed.  
  
"I know that. He is kind of cute," Lorrie admitted.  
  
"Wor-ee!" Jaime screeched at her.  
  
Sydney laughed at her look of amazement.   
  
"And smart," Lorrie amended.  
  
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"What time do you need to go home?" Sydney asked as she pulled up in front of her house.  
  
"Daddy's never home before seven," Lorrie said, shrugging. "I'll go home by then, whenever you want me to."  
  
"Whenever you're ready," Sydney said pointedly as she unlocked her front door.  
  
"Mrs. Hecht, since I told you about…about my mom…will you tell me about yours?" Lorrie asked uncertainly.   
  
"Outside school, you can call me Sydney. I'll tell you. Let's get inside first, okay?" Sydney said to buy a little time to get her thoughts in order.  
  
Lorrie nodded. "Okay…Sydney."  
  
"Would you like a snack? I think we've got some cookies in the kitchen. We've got sodas, too."  
  
"Um, thanks. Just a soda would be good."  
  
"Okay." Sydney quickly strapped Jaime into his high chair and gave him some crackers to keep him quiet. "Here you go," she said, handing a soda to Lorrie and grabbing another for herself. "Sit down. We'll talk."  
  
"Okay," Lorrie said hesitantly, waiting for Sydney to speak. When she didn't, Lorrie asked, "What happened?"  
  
Sydney took a deep breath. "Whenever I was at home and she had to run to the bank or do some other boring chore, she'd always let me come. She'd never tell me it wouldn't be any fun and that I would be much happier if I stayed at home. That day, she wouldn't let me come. She didn't tell me it would be boring. She specifically said that I just couldn't come, that I had to stay with my father. Not that I had to stay _home_ with him, just that I had to stay with him. I pouted and wouldn't hug her good-bye. I didn't realize anything was going on; I was just a little kid whose mother was refusing to take her somewhere. Next thing I knew, Dad got a phone call. I sat there on the floor and watched his face turn all…stony. Like he was afraid of crying. Then he told me Mom was dead. I started crying, but he didn't seem to notice. When I was ten, I finally got brave enough to ask him for details. It's true, I was scared of him. From the second he received that call, he was a different person. He told me something went wrong with her car and she drove off the docks. I had gone for four years not even knowing that much." Sydney stopped and took a shuddering breath, barely holding back the tears that she'd held back for twenty years. "The only other thing he told me that day was that they never found her body," she continued. " I was in college before I ever had the nerve to ask him anything else. By then, he claimed the details had gotten fuzzy and he was trying to forget. I assumed he just didn't want to talk about it, but now I'm not so sure," Sydney said, having realized as she related the story that her father's behavior was very suspicious. Had he known something? May be even when she was ten?  
  
"You think he knows she's alive but he's not telling you?" Lorrie asked, reading her mind. "Why would he do that?" Lorrie seemed to reconsider that question. "Is he like my dad?"  
  
Sydney nodded. "He was never around after Mom died."  
  
"Could he have been looking for her, and just not told you?"  
  
"I'm beginning to think so," Sydney said grimly, suddenly very angry with her father.  
  
They sat in silence, except for Jaime's babblings, for several long minutes before one of them spoke again.  
  
"You don't talk to your dad much, do you," Lorrie asked quietly.  
  
Sydney looked at her in surprise.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"You don't seem happy about talking to him about all this," Lorrie said. "You got quiet all of a sudden."  
  
"You're right. He lives here in LA. I moved off after college, but Danny and I ended up back here because this is where his family is. It's been months since I've spoken to my father; Danny's parents are more like parents to me than he is. Birthdays and Christmases are about the only times we talk, and sometimes not even then," Sydney said. It seemed as though she was talking about someone else for all she seemed to care. She found she really didn't care any more, either.  
  
"And you don't mind?" Lorrie asked in awe. "My dad always remembers my birthday, even if he isn't around for it much."  
  
Sydney shrugged. I'm used to it, I guess. This is how it's been since I moved out when I was eighteen."  
  
"Why did you move out?"  
  
"I wanted to get away from home. At best, Dad and I were civil. We disagreed about everything, even my career choice. My mother was a teacher," Sydney explained absently. "I was just tired of it."  
  
Lorrie nodded. "Me too. The only time Dad says much to me is when I mess up. He made me play basketball when we first moved here, and he was furious when I quit the team after a week. Just like he gets mad if I do bad in school." Lorrie shrugged.  
  
"Surely he can't…" Sydney stopped abruptly as the phone rang, reminding them of why they were waiting there.  
  
Lorrie stared wide-eyed at Sydney, who stared back, seemingly frozen in place.  
  
"Aren't you gonna answer it?" Lorrie whispered after three rings. Sydney jumped up and snatched up the phone before it's fourth ring.  
  
"He-hello?" she forced out shakily.  
  
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So, surprise surprise, Mommy's alive after all. Of course, we all knew that. But the point is, Sydney didn't and she's just finding out, and a mysterious young girl is finding out with her…


	3. I'm Crazy

Chapter 3: …I'm Crazy!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, but several characters in this story are MINE!  
  
A/N: I think you'll like this chapter, sorry for taking so long to get it up!  
  
A/N: I don't like the version of Sydney I portray here either, but you have to remember that in this story she's never had CIA training and therefore hasn't been trained to hide her emotions. It could be a lot worse, trust me. I revised this chapter at least a dozen times.  
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"Sydney? Are you okay?" Danny's voice exclaimed.  
  
"Danny?!?" I'm…I'm fine. I was just…expecting someone else," she finished quickly.  
  
"I wanted to let you know I'll be home a little late tonight," Danny said after a pause. "We had an emergency earlier, so my schedule is a little behind. Will you be okay?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I, um, Lorrie and I were talking, and we, er, I wasn't expecting you to call," Sydney said nervously.  
  
"Lorrie? That little girl that's always rude to you?" he asked skeptically.   
  
"Yes, that's her. What time will you be home?"  
  
"Not until 7:30 or 8:00. Go ahead and eat without me, I'll get something when I get in." Danny fell quiet. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.  
  
"I'm fine, Danny. You surprised me is all. I'll see you when you get here. Jaime will probably still be awake then, too. Love you."  
  
"I love you too, honey. And you'll be okay?" Danny repeated yet again.  
  
"I'll be fine," Sydney laughed, hoping she sounded nonchalant. "I feel so silly. You must think I'm being ridiculous, letting an unexpected phone call rattle me like that. We were really deep in conversation, I guess we lost all track of time."  
  
"Yes, I do think you're being ridiculous, but I'll let you explain later. I really have to go if I want to get home at all tonight," Danny said, sounding a little less worried. He shook his head. She got too involved with those kids.  
  
"All right. See you then."  
  
"See you."  
  
Sydney hung up the phone and collapsed in her chair laughing.  
  
"Danny thinks I'm crazy!" she cried. "I can't keep answering the phone like that until she calls!"  
  
Lorrie grinned. "You covered well. Since when does an unexpected phone call leave you shaking like a fox being chased by a pack of hounds?"  
  
"Oh hush. What would you do if your mother was going to call you? This is weird." Sydney laugh died away and apprehension replaced the giddiness she'd been feeling a moment before.  
  
"And scary," Lorrie added. "You really think it's her?"  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and closed her eyes. "I couldn't forget her voice. But if it is her…" She opened her eyes and looked at Lorrie.  
  
"…Then she didn't die," Lorrie finished. "And we have to figure out what really happened."  
  
Lorrie was starting to kind of enjoy the situation. It was weird, like in the movies. She was starting to think like those movie detectives.  
  
Then the phone rang again.  
  
Sydney gasped but jumped to answer it before it finished its first ring.  
  
"Hello?" she said, careful to keep her voice calm.  
  
"Sydney." The voice sounded too calm and almost relieved.  
  
"Who…is…this?" Sydney said forcefully.  
  
"Are you there alone?"  
  
"Yes. I'm alone," Sydney said for some reason, looking pointedly at Lorrie as she said it.  
  
"You know who I am, my Sydney."   
  
The sound of that phrase, "my Sydney," threatened to pull her into the past for the second time that day, and into memories she'd managed to bury or at least adjust to. Hearing the voice changed everything.  
  
"Mom?" she said, barely audibly. Lorrie stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed.  
  
"Yes, Sydney," Laura Bristow said, sounding sad now.  
  
"But…you…how…" Sydney sputtered.  
  
"It was a mistake, Sydney. I should never have left. I can't explain what I did now. Jack hasn't told you about me?" Laura added after an awkward pause.  
  
"He knew?!?" Sydney yelled.   
  
"Ask him. But don't tell him you spoke to me. Do me that favor, Sydney, and I'll try to explain it as best I can. I promise you I'll try. Good-bye."  
  
"No! Don't…" Sydney cried, but she heard the disappointing hum of the dial tone before she could finish.  
  
Lorrie stared in disbelief as Sydney returned to the table.  
  
"It was her? And you're dad knew about her?" she asked. The whole mess was becoming less fun and more disappointing. She'd hoped it had been someone playing a joke and they could find out who did it. She never imagined this might be for real.  
  
It was all Sydney could do to nod in reply to Lorrie's question.  
  
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Almost an hour after the shocking phone call, Sydney struggled to make the one phone call she knew she had to make to get any answers, for the time anyway. She knew she'd have to call her father. After all, hadn't her mother practically begged her to ask him about it, and then she'd explain it to her? Who knew what her father might know? She may never want to speak to Laura Bristow again after she talked to Jack. And why was her mother so anxious to keep her existence, or at least her contact with Sydney, secret? Sydney should be elated to find out her beloved mother wasn't dead after all, but there was something wrong with the whole thing. And it didn't help her to think that Lorrie's father was looking for proof that Lorrie's mother has only disappeared, not died, as well. Sydney had the very unpleasant feeling that her life was about to change forever.  
  
"Mrs.…Sydney, you have to call him. You want to get it over with before your husband gets home, don't you? If your mom doesn't want you to tell anyone about her, at least find out why," Lorrie urged.  
  
"I'm going to, Lorrie," Sydney snapped. "I just have to figure out how to ask him without sounding abrupt and unnatural. He's a sharp guy, and I don't want him suspicious. I'm not telling anyone anything until I find out something drastic, but something about this just doesn't' feel right to me," Sydney admitted.  
  
Sydney thought this over as she searched the kitchen for some crackers for Jaime to keep him quiet; he wasn't the center of attention for once in his short life, and he didn't like it a bit. She gave a handful of crackers to Lorrie, who was sitting closer to him that she was, and Lorrie instantly began giving them to him one at a time to keep him from cramming them all into his mouth at once.  
  
Finally, Sydney picked up the phone and dialed the only number she had for her father, his cell number.  
  
"Bristow," Jack's voice said sharply.  
  
"Dad, it's me," Sydney said, suddenly unsure of how to begin the conversation. He would definitely know something was up.  
  
"Sydney?" Jack Bristow could not have sounded more shocked if he'd just been informed that Mt. Everest had spontaneously sunk into more of an Everest Valley.  
  
"Dad, I…I wanted to talk to you…about…Mom. See," she continued quickly, "I was talking to a student today, and some things she said got me thinking about Mom. You know, you never told me very much about what happened then, and you still haven't. Could you tell me some of it?"  
  
The long silence at the other end of the line surprised her. Was it _that_ hard of a question?  
  
"Not now," Jack said finally. "May be I could join you for dinner and we could discuss it." His tone was, as usual, all business and left no room for argument. He was not asking, he was telling her what they were going to do.  
  
She sighed and prepared for the fight.  
  
"Dad, I'm already having company for dinner tonight. What's the big deal anyway? Why all the secrets?"  
  
"Who is your guest?" Jack asked, completely ignoring her question. Nothing new there.  
  
"My student," Sydney said, growing irritated. Her voice was more snappish than she intended, but at least her wasn't walking all over her anymore, like he'd done when she was a teenager. If he'd said she couldn't do something, she'd gone meekly to her room and read all night.  
  
"I'll be there anyway."   
  
Sydney wondered if while she'd been reminiscing he'd been making arrangements to get to her house for dinner.  
  
"Dad, I don't think…Dad?" Sydney held the phone away from her ear and stared at it. "He hung up on me!" she cried in disbelief. So much for not walking all over her.  
  
"What did he say?" Lorrie asked, not at all concerned that he'd hung up on his own daughter.  
  
"He asked if he could dome to dinner. He's never been here," she added thoughtfully. "But when I told him I already had company he said he'd be here anyway. Really, he didn't ask, he told me he was coming."  
  
"If you'd rather I didn't stay…" Lorrie started, but Sydney cut her off.  
  
"Of course you're staying," she said, not realizing she was doing much the same thing her father had. "Dad expects you to be here, and if you're not he'll think I lied and just don't want to see him. Which I don't, but I wouldn't lie to get rid of him. Besides, we're in this together, remember? I need you now." Sydney smiled reassuringly.  
  
Lorrie couldn't help but smile back. She hadn't felt so…content since her mother had died. It was good to be content, not just exist for a change.  
  
"Right. Together. I'll stay," Lorrie promised.  
  
"Good. I think you'll be helpful in figuring out whatever's going on. And may be we can figure out something to do about your dad."  
  
Lorrie's smile dimmed.  
  
"I don't want you to talk to my dad. You'll just make him mad," she warned.  
  
Sydney drew her eyebrows together.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Because he's always mad. He gets frustrated easily when things don't go his way. And lately…" Lorrie broke off in a shrug.  
  
"He's frustrated because he can't find your mother?"  
  
Lorrie nodded.  
  
"Lorrie, you can't let it get to you. Have you ever given any thought to what you'd like to do when you grow up?" Sydney asked abruptly.  
  
Lorrie was a little flustered by the sudden change of subject.   
  
"A little. I'd kind of like to…well…I'd like to be a psychologist. Then I could help crazy people like us," Lorrie said sheepishly.  
  
"Good. Don't let anything stop you from getting that. Focus on that, and the here and now doesn't seem as bad. That's how I got through college and most of high school, living with and so close to Dad. He didn't approve of me becoming a teacher like my mother."  
  
"If Dad knew I wanted to be a psychologist, he'd say all they do is get paid big bucks to listen to rich people whine," Lorrie confided. "My mom was a doctor. I'd like to be like her, but I can't stand the sight of blood. So, I'll be a psychologist instead. It's almost the same. You're helping people feel better."  
  
Sydney was surprised by the girl's response. That was a way she herself had never been able to look at things. She could have placated her father by taking an interest in a profession that was like teaching in her eyes but wasn't really, and still satisfied herself, but for her it had to be the exact same thing. Besides, teaching middle school was an experience she wouldn't forego for anything in the world.  
  
"Keep thinking like that, Lorrie. It'll take you places," Sydney finally replied.  
  
Sydney stood and began moving around the kitchen, finding the ingredients for spaghetti, the one meal she knew her father still ate and that Danny liked. Plus, spaghetti is almost as good reheated as it is fresh.  
  
By the time her father had showed up, Sydney planned to make her life seem picture perfect. No one, especially her father, needed to know that what had once been very close to actual perfection had just been turned upside down.  
  
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Good, right? Stay tuned, folks, you'll love the scene coming up in the next chapter. Sydney asks one innocent question and it sends Jack storming out the door like she's firing a gun after him…


	4. You've Never Been Here Before

Chapter 4: You've Never Been Here Before  
  
Disclaimer: Recognizable characters in this story probably are not mine…  
  
A/N: I think the title of this is so appropriate…don't you?  
  
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"Hello, Dad." Sydney opened her front door and stepped back, but even she cringed at the frosty note in her voice.  
  
"Sydney. It's good to see you," Jack Bristow said in his brisk tone, but now a slight note of discomfort slipped in.  
  
"Lorrie and Jaime are in the kitchen. I'll put your jacket away while you go in and join them," Sydney offered with all appearances on being courteous.  
  
"I'll just wait on you. I'm sure you'll only be a moment," Jack said.  
  
"Oh, that's right. You've never been here. Strange, since we've lived here since before Jaime was born. I don't believe you've even seen Jaime since he was a couple of months old, have you?" Sydney asked cruelly. She instantly felt guilty, since she hadn't made any special effort to make sure Jaime saw his grandfather, but Jack had left her to stew over his self imposed dinner invitation to apologize. She also felt sad that he was missing his grandson growing up, with father's unruly hair and Sydney's soft brown eyes that occasionally took on a hard age when he wanted something he wasn't getting.   
  
"Dad," she said, more civilly as she led him into the kitchen. "This is one of my students, Lorrie. She's having dinner with us tonight. I'm sure you'll be sorry to hear that Danny won't be joining us. He had to work late.  
  
Jack shook Lorrie's hand and retreated into the far corner of the small kitchen. He had never cared for Danny, and he felt it was just as well that the man wouldn't be there to hear him say any of what he had come to tell his daughter. Of course, he'd prefer the little girl wasn't around either, but that could be dealt with later.  
  
For a long time, jack watched Jaime bang happily on the tray of his high chair, smashing to crumbs the crackers Lorrie had left there.   
  
To say the least, he was surprised by Sydney's phone call. He was downright suspicious of her request for information about her mother. Sure, he'd refused to tell her anything when she was a child, so she was still curious. But would she call him suddenly after over fifteen years to ask about her mother? No, he didn't think so; that wasn't what his gut reaction said. And his instincts had, in many cases, been the only thing to keep him alive for the past twenty-eight years. His instincts had failed him only once, and the result had been…  
  
"Dad, surely you don't want to sit in here with the children?" Sydney said sweetly, tuning around. "Go sit in the den, you'll be much more comfortable and I won't be long." Lorrie flinched at being called a child, but to Sydney's relief she kept quiet. "As soon as I get done in here we can discuss Mom." She saw the way he glared at her for that comment.  
  
"Fine. We can get it over with. I find it no business of the girl's what we're discussing," he added pointedly as he walked out.  
  
Lorrie giggled as soon as he was out of earshot.  
  
"Lorrie, I want you to come with me to talk to him. I'll bring Jaime, make it look like we're all moving into the den before we eat," Sydney added at Lorrie's look of horror. "Please, Lorrie, I want you to hear what he says too."  
  
Lorrie nodded and they left the pasta to boil slowly while Jack explained some things that should have been covered 20 years ago.  
  
Sydney walked confidently into the den holding Jaime, with Lorrie trailing behind her. They settled onto the couch across from Jack with Sydney holding on her lap.  
  
"Okay, go," Sydney ordered.  
  
Jack shot a stubborn glance at Lorrie.  
  
"This girl has no business hearing anything I have to say," he snapped.  
  
"I want her to hear it, so she's staying," Sydney replied firmly.  
  
"She can't be trusted…" Jack began.  
  
"You don't know that!" Lorrie cried indignantly. "You don't even know me!"  
  
"All the better reason for you to leave," Jack snapped at her.  
  
"Dad, she's not leaving. If you're concerned she'll repeat something, you don't have to worry. I trust Lorrie. Now, please explain before dinner is ready." Sydney stared impatiently at her father.  
  
Jack looked furious, but he said nothing. Instead, he pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket.  
  
"Don't smoke in here!" Sydney snapped.  
  
Jack did not reply or stop, but simply opened the pack and struck the switch on the lighter. Instead of a flame, a thin pin popped out of the top of the lighter. Jack jammed the top of the lighter down into the cigarette pack and set the whole thing down on the coffee table.  
  
"Bug killer," he said shortly.  
  
"But why do you…" Sydney started, but Jack held up a hand to silence her.  
  
"Sydney, last chance. You're absolutely sure you can trust this girl?" Lorrie crossed her arms across her chest and Sydney nodded. "I work for the CIA," he said softly. He shook his head slightly. "And Laura Bristow never existed."  
  
"Dad, you're crazy! What are you talking about?" Sydney burst out after several long minutes of tense silence.  
  
"I work for the CIA. The woman we knew as Laura Bristow was really Irena Derevko, a Russian KGB spy. She didn't die in that car crash 20 years ago. She's wanted for the murder of numerous CIA and FBI agents." Jack's voice was flat, as though he was simply watching the scene.  
  
"Dad, you're crazy!" Sydney repeated, but with less conviction than she'd felt before.  
  
"I found out almost six years ago that she'd somehow survived the crash. The CIA in general believes she planned the crash in order to disappear." He shook his head again, something Sydney hadn't seen him do since her mother's…disappearance. "I've answered your question, Sydney, now I need you to answer mine.  
  
Sydney nodded numbly, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"What prompted you to call me this afternoon?"  
  
Sydney looked up quickly.  
  
"I just…was talking to someone and she got me to thinking about Mom, and…" Sydney stopped when she heard Lorrie say her name.  
  
"You said you'd tell someone if you found out something drastic," Lorrie whispered. "I think…I think you should tell him."  
  
"Tell me what?" Jack jumped in quickly.  
  
Lorrie looked at Sydney silently.  
  
"You're right. And I meant it," Sydney said softly, then raised her voice to normal levels. "I got a phone call today at my school. It was Mom. I had been talking to Lorrie before the call, and she noticed something was wrong when I came back. I told her. She came home with me. She was here when Mom called again." Sydney looked over at Lorrie. "Can I tell him about your mother?" Lorrie nodded. "Her mother dies in a car crash four years ago, but her father is convinced that the woman ran away. They never found her body," Sydney said to explain the connection. She shook her head. "I never meant to get her caught up in something like this. I had no idea my mother was a murderer."  
  
Jack studies them both before saying anything else. By his next statement, he must have decided they could handle more.  
  
"Some people at the CIA suspected she might contact you when I told them how good a mother she had seemed to be. They thought she might play the great mother angle and try to get you on her side as an adult even though she left you as a child. Since she knew the numbers both here and to the school, it's safe to assume she knows where you live. I brought the bug killer because it's possible with you and Danny out of the house all day she could have easily bugged the house hoping to gain intel from me or even you."  
  
"Mom may have the house bugged? But why?" Sydney asked, having trouble processing all the new and difficult information.   
  
"In the hope of gaining valuable intel concerning the CIA," Jack repeated. "I'm going to talk to the director and have a guard placed here around the clock. It's highly likely that Derevko may attempt to speak with you face to face, and what better place than your home?"  
  
"A guard? Dad, I don't think…"  
  
"Yes, a guard. If I have any say he'll be starting first thing in the morning," Jack said firmly. "If Derevko shows up, I want someone here to nab her." His face hardened as he said it.  
  
"Dad, I always thought you loved Mom," Sydney said softly.   
  
She watched as his face softened almost unnoticeably before it contorted to fury. Jack stood and stormed from the room.   
  
"Aren't you staying to eat?" Sydney called after him.  
  
"No," he said loudly before he slammed the front door behind him.  
  
Sydney set Jaime, who was squirming and trying to get away, on the floor and allowed him to crawl around on the carpeted floor and leaned her head against the back of the couch.  
  
Lorrie stood up quickly.  
  
"If you want to be alone, I'll…"  
  
"Stay. Unless you want to leave. I won't stop you. But I have enough spaghetti in the kitchen for four, and I'll never eat it all by myself. I wouldn't mind some company right now," Sydney suggested.  
  
"I'll stay," Lorrie said, moving across the room to keep Jaime from pulling something onto his head. She picked him up and came back to the couch. "Are you going to tell your husband all of this?" she asked carefully, setting Jaime between them.   
  
Sydney sighed. "I have to. He'll know something is wrong, especially after calling here earlier. I'll have to explain."  
  
They sat in silence for a long time. Sydney was thinking of birthdays and Christmases and trips to the park with her parents, and how they'd all been lies. Her mother, for some reason, hadn't felt the love she and her father had imagined she did, and she'd left. Her father might as well have said he didn't ever love her mother. All those times she'd felt her life was perfect had been a lie, every one of them.   
  
Lorrie was, in light of what she'd just heard, beginning to harbor the slightest of doubts that her mother was really dead. It was crazy, she knew; what were the chances that both of their mother's were mysteriously alive? Almost nonexistent, she acknowledged. She'd have to talk to her father when he got home that night. She'd probably have to convince him that she fully believed him without a doubt before he'd tell her what she wanted to know.  
  
Lorrie broke away from her thoughts when she smelled something burning. About that time, Sydney jumped up yelling, "The spaghetti!" Lorrie, laughing, picked up Jaime carefully and followed her.  
  
By the time she reached the kitchen, Sydney had already snatched the bubbling pan of sauce off the stove.  
  
"I think it's still okay," Sydney laughed weakly. "Today's lesson, class, is never leave the kitchen when you're cooking," she told Lorrie and Jaime.  
  
"Duly noted," Lorrie commented, hiding a grin.  
  
Sydney glanced up to see Lorrie holding her son.  
  
"You seem to have gotten used to him," she said calmly, grinning.  
  
Lorrie just adjusted Jaime at her hip. "He's pretty calm now. I'm not afraid of dropping him."  
  
"Good. You two just have a seat, I'll have this ready in a minute. We'll have to eat quick, though. It's already a quarter after six," Sydney informed her.   
  
She prepared two plates complete with sauce, and she gave Jaime one with just noodles.  
  
"If I give him the sauce he'll have it all over all three of us," Sydney explained. "I'll give him some when I'm done so I can keep an eye on him."  
  
The normalcy of the dinner amazed Lorrie. Even with the heartrending revelations of earlier Sydney sat and calmly talked to Lorrie, then calmly fed Jaime. Lorrie was reluctant to leave when 7:00 rolled around.  
  
"I guess I'd better go," Lorrie finally said around 7:30 after helping Sydney put Jaime to bed. "I have to be home when Dad gets there."  
  
Sydney and Lorrie walked toward the back door so Lorrie could cut across the backyards to her backdoor. At the door, Sydney put her hands on Lorrie's shoulders.   
  
"Lorrie, I want you to try to talk to your dad. You saw how my dad and I are. He's unresponsive and I try to bait him. I don't want you to be like that. Try to talk to him, form the bond I'm sure was there before your mother's accident," Sydney pleaded.  
  
"I'm going to," Lorrie said quietly. "But only because I want to know what he's found out about the accident. May be he'll finally listen to me when I tell him about her brakes."  
  
Sydney's eyes grew wide.  
  
"Lorrie, you don't think he's right, do you? It's impossible, you know that."  
  
"You were sure your mom was dead," Lorrie said pitifully. "I don't really believe him, but I need to know what he's found. I want to know if it's enough to raise doubts or to be suspicious."  
  
Sydney sighed. "Even if she is alive, it's probably not a good thing," she cautioned.  
  
Lorrie nodded and struggled to hold back tears. "I just want to know," she cried. Then she twisted free and took off toward her house.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Lorrie," Sydney whispered into the dark, Lorrie having already disappeared.  
  
She walked slowly, dazedly, back into the kitchen and sunk into a chair. She stared blankly at the bare white wall for a long moment, tears forming in her eyes. Looking after Lorrie had been a welcomed distraction after the news her father brought. Now there was nothing left to think about except the shocking truth. Her mother, who she'd thought the world of, had run away from Sydney and her father. That had changed him. He'd been a warm, loving man when her mother was alive. After her death, he'd become withdrawn. At some point, which must have been when he found out the truth, he'd become sullen and distrustful.  
  
Finally, Sydney lowered her head into her arms on the table and sobbed, all she could think was that her parents had betrayed her, and where was Danny when she needed him?  
  
That was how Danny found her some twenty minutes later, when he came in without her hearing him.  
  
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Melodramatic, I know, but Alias is supposed to be dramatic. Besides, I wrote this chapter right before I watched the season premier, and time just wasn't passing fast enough!!!!  
  
Please review and let me know what you think!!! 


	5. What Do You Know About Mom

Chapter 5: What do you know about Mom?  
  
Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine, but if JJ and ABC want to give it to me, Christmas is coming up…  
  
A/N: I want to apologize again if I offended anybody over the while spelling error thing. I plan to eventually remove the review, just so we have no reminders of this mess sitting around. _____________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Lorrie had run straight home, but she waited outside until she heard her father's car pull up. After the easy companionship of the afternoon, she couldn't face going inside the big empty house. She didn't want to think how Sydney must be feeling now that she was alone, too. She hated to think her mother could be alive like Sydney's mother, especially if she was a criminal. She wasn't really looking forward to a conversation with her father, either. So she sat on the chilly back steps and made her mind a blank,  
  
When she heard the car, she quickly slipped into the living room, through which her father would have to pass to get to his study. She sat silently while he moved around the kitchen, probably fixing himself a drink, Lorrie thought. He doesn't even care that I have unlimited access to that stuff.   
  
Then she heard him go upstairs to his bedroom. Changing out of his precious suit, she thought bitterly. When he finally came into the living room, he seemed shocked to find her there.  
  
"Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" he asked absently.  
  
"I don't have any," Lorrie replied, and waited for his next attempt to get rid of her.  
  
"Have you eaten yet?"  
  
"I ate an hour and a half ago."  
  
"Did you clean your dishes?"  
  
"There are no dirty dishes in the sink."  
  
When her father fell silent, Lorrie took advantage of the lull.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" she asked in a firm yet imploring voice. It would be easier if she could make it clear that was exactly what she intended to do. If she sounded tentative, he might think she was in trouble.  
  
"Fine," he muttered. He took her into his study and sat behind his desk, leaving her the chairs where all the private detectives sat while he yelled at them for not finding out enough; nothing was ever enough for him. Lorrie was pretty sure it was intentional.  
  
"What do you know about Mom?" she asked as soon as she sat down, taking control before he had a chance.  
  
He stared at her blankly.  
  
"What?" he finally asked in astonishment.  
  
"I want to know everything you've found out about Mom's disappearance," she forced herself to say. She held his gaze.  
  
"You...you believe she didn't die?" he stuttered.  
  
"Yes," she lied. "Now what do you know?"  
  
He sighed and shook his head, visibly relaxing for some reason unknown to Lorrie.  
  
"If she's still alive, she's done a damn good job of covering her tracks," he said candidly. "I've never, in all this time, seen proof that she died in the crash, which should be there, but I haven't seen any leads as to where she is now, either."  
  
Lorrie could think of nothing else convincing to say, so she was just as candid. "She had new brakes put on her car two days before the accident," she revealed.  
  
"Really? Doesn't matter. She was a big mechanics girl. She could've rigged 'em to look like they failed. Or may be they did, she just saw it as the perfect opportunity to escape," he said thoughtfully.  
  
He remained silent for a long moment but picked up a file and started going through it.  
  
"Do you have any pictures of your mother?" he asked, pulling something out.  
  
"No," she lied again. She didn't want him to know that she'd stolen several of them from photo albums in the attic and had them hidden in her room.  
  
"Here. You should have. If you should see her, I want you to remember what she looks like," he added. He passed her an unfamiliar picture of her mother, in which she looked slightly older than in any other picture Lorrie had seen of her.  
  
"Oh. Of…of course," she muttered. "Can I see anything you have about her?"  
  
"You mean like papers, reports?" She nodded. "I don't have anything like that. I only accept verbal reports from the detectives." He dropped hid eyes to look guiltily at a box in the corner, but looked back quickly. "I have to get some work done, okay? Can we talk later?"  
  
Lorrie agreed readily. She had found what she'd come for; she could only hope he didn't suspect she saw him look at it and move it.  
  
"Okay. I'm tired anyway. I think I'll just go to bed," she said.  
  
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Danny rushed into the kitchen when he heard Sydney. She jumped when he touched her shoulder, but when she saw him she turned and wrapped her arms around him.  
  
"Sydney!" he cried in alarm. "Honey, what's wrong? Are you okay?!?" When she nodded into his shoulder, he continued, "Is it Jaime?"  
  
"N-no!" she sobbed incomprehensibly. "It's m-my m-m-mother!"  
  
"Your…mother?" he asked, confused. "Didn't you tell me she died?"  
  
"Uh-huh," she sobbed.  
  
"Honey, what's wrong?" he cried in exasperation.   
  
She tried to explain, but her voice shook and cracked so much that Danny couldn't understand a word of it; she was babbling.  
  
Finally, she gave up and just cried. For ten minutes, she just cried. When she finally became quiet, Danny put her away from him gently so he could look at her.  
  
"Tell me what's wrong, Honey," Danny ordered softly, looking woefully at the tears still streaming down Sydney's face.  
  
Sydney took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a moment.  
  
"My mother…didn't die. I spoke to her. Dad told me…he knew," she said, dissolving into tears again.  
  
Danny stared at her. "She…how…alive?" he sputtered.  
  
"She called me twice today. My dad thinks…" She stopped. She had been about to say, "Dad thinks the house is bugged, but she thought better of it. She jumped up and when she returned she had the bug killer in hand. She tossed it onto the kitchen table. "Dad thinks she may have bugged the house. She's a criminal, Danny!"  
  
"What's that thing?" Danny asked, looking at the cigarette pack warily.  
  
"It's a bug killer. Dad brought it. He also told me he intends to have a guard posted here 24/7." When Danny continued to stare, she realized she'd left out one important fact. "He works for the CIA. And Mom was a Russian Spy."  
  
"You're serious? No wonder Jack wants a guard here. Did he say when?" Danny asked carefully.  
  
"In the morning, probably."  
  
Sydney was devoid of any emotion, having reached an apathetic state born of exhaustion.   
  
Danny nodded. "I'll stay home tomorrow if the guy isn't here before you have to leave. Do you want to leave Jaime here or take him on to day care?" he asked.  
  
"I'll leave him here. You haven't seen him nearly enough lately, you've been so busy." Sydney looked at the floor and sighed. "I think I'm going to bed. There's spaghetti in the kitchen."  
  
"Okay, Honey," Danny murmured sympathetically. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Try to sleep, okay?"  
  
She smiled weakly. "I'll try."  
  
Slowly, she walked down the hallway to their bedroom and somehow, perhaps from mental exhaustion, she managed to fall asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.  
  
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Oh! Poor Sydney...remember, she hasn't been trained to hide things since she never was in the CIA. I don't really like this version of Syd, but I can live with her, can't you?  
  
Please review! You can tell me what you think of "emotional" Syd... 


	6. It's Considered Recruit Work

Chapter 6: It's Considered Recruit Work  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias...unfortunately.  
  
A/N: I love this title...it reflects fanfic writing in a way. Why do we intentionally put ourselves through the torture?  
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Sydney climbed out of bed the moment the alarm went off. She had no clue when her dad's guard would show up, but if he showed up before she left she wanted to at least appear capable; the last thing she wanted was a CIA escort following her everywhere. He'd probably be the classic James Bond type, she thought in annoyance. Perfect hair, sensual smile, suave, and with a thousand virtually-useless-but-looks-good moves up his sleeve.  
  
To save Danny the trouble, especially since he wasn't a morning person, Sydney got Jaime up and fed. That in itself was a job since Jaime had moved on to solid baby food, which he somehow made an even bigger mess with. By the time Danny emerged from the bedroom, dressed but with his hair still wild, not only was Sydney dressed and ready to leave, but so was Jaime. The kitchen was cleaned up after Jaime's breakfast, too.  
  
When Danny glanced at her in surprise she glanced up at the clock and realized she had a good hour before she needed to leave. May be she had done it intentionally to avoid seeing the CIA guy; actually seeing him would make it all so real and threaten to let loose the emotions she'd so carefully capped the night before.  
  
Sydney was unbelievably relieved to find that, ten minutes before she had to leave, the CIA guard still hadn't arrived. May be Dad couldn't get anyone, she thought hopefully.  
  
She jumped ten feet in the air when their doorbell rang suddenly. She threw a panicked look at Danny before she could stop herself.  
  
"Sydney, if you want to go ahead and leave, I'll let the guy in," Danny offered, realizing she didn't want to see him.  
  
Sydney took a deep breath. "No, I'll let him in," she said, handing him Jaime and stepping out of the kitchen before she lost her nerve.  
  
She walked through their living room, her heart pounding in her ears.  
  
Stop it, she told herself firmly. You're being ridiculous.   
  
She jerked open the door and started to throw a disgusted glance at a James Bond clone, but she stopped with the door wide open, speechless.  
  
The man she saw was about 6'2" with an athletic build, and slightly messy brown hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken more than once, a crooked grin, and bright green eyes. In other words, not James Bond.  
  
"Hi," not-James-Bond said, sticking out his hand and grinning. "Michael Vaughn. You must be Sydney Hecht."  
  
Sydney nodded and shook his hand, and he handed her his badge. She noticed he never looked her quite in the eye.  
  
"I'm required to show this," he laughed, indicating the badge.  
  
"CIA Operations Officer," it read.  
  
"Um," Sydney said, finally recovering her powers of speech. "Mr. Vaughn, what…"  
  
"Call me Michael," he interrupted.  
  
"Okay. Michael, what exactly are you doing here? I knew to expect someone, but I'm not clear on what you're doing. Guarding the house, protecting it from…my mother?" she forced herself to finish.  
  
"Both. I'm watching the house, checking for bugs, that sort of stuff, but I also have strict orders to prevent Derevko from any further contact with you, and…"  
  
"Contact with _me_? You make it sound like you're keeping _me_ from contacting _her_. Where do you get those orders?" she asked in annoyance, vaguely aware of how organizations like the CIA worked.  
  
Michael dropped his eyes, somewhat guiltily, she thought fleetingly. "In this case, I received my orders from Jack Bristow," he admitted.  
  
"So he thinks I still want contact with my…with Irina Derevko? Even after he told me what she's done?!?" Sydney asked, furious.  
  
"Mrs. Hecht…" Michael protested.  
  
"Sydney," she corrected automatically. "Only my students call me by my last name."  
  
"Sydney, I think your father is just looking out for you. He seems afraid that you don't believe him and I have no business disclosing that," he added.  
  
Danny chose that instant to come from the kitchen, having heard the raised voices coming from the front door. Danny's first impression of Michael Vaughn was that he was a man hiding something, that he was personally connected to him and Sydney in some way.  
  
"Sydney, honey, do you think you should let this man in the house?" Danny asked gently, grinning.  
  
"Oh," Sydney said softly, as though she'd just realized she was blocking the door. "Michael, this is my husband Daniel and my son, Jaime," Sydney explained as she stepped back, a little sheepishly.  
  
"Oh," Michael said inaudibly, dropping his eyes again but quickly raising them again. "Nice to meet you Daniel."  
  
"Danny, actually," Danny said, extending his hand. "Sydney insists on introducing me that way because she thinks a doctor should sound more dignified," he joked. This isn't just some random guy Jack chose, he thought. There's a reason.  
  
"Great. I'm Michael Vaughn, call me Michael. I hear enough of my last name at work to get tired of it," Michael said, unknowingly mirroring Sydney's thoughts on the matter.  
  
"Good to meet you," Danny said, despite his misgivings about the man. "If you're here, then what Jack told Sydney must be true."  
  
"Yes. It is," Michael said after a pause. His words were clipped and calculated, Danny noticed, which served to deepen his concern about the stranger's motives.  
  
"We hate to have to run without showing you around the house, Mr. …Michael," Sydney corrected herself. "But we really have to get to work. I need to get there as early as I can."  
  
Michael smiled understandingly. "No problem. You won't mind if I look around a bit, though? I need to know the layout," he said quickly, more than happy to get away from the woman.  
  
"No, no, of course. Feel free to look around," Sydney said brightly, taking Jaime and hurrying toward the door. "Will you still be here this afternoon?" she added, wanting to know whether to expect to find him.  
  
"I'm not sure. Agent Bristow assigned several agents to have a shift, but I don't know what sort of schedule has been worked out," Michael admitted as she continued to move toward the door. Danny had begun to follow his wife.  
  
"Are you sure you have time to drop Jaime off?" Danny asked as he pulled the door closed.  
  
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When Sydney arrived at the school, she fully expected Lorrie to come to her classroom before the first bell. But as the day went by and Lorrie continued to stay out of sight, she became the furthest thing from Sydney's mind. In fact, many of the things Sydney should have been concentrating on seemed to be forgotten among the recent events. She was flooded by students complaining about their grades in her fourth period class after she handing back test she'd graded during her break, finally promising to look over all the tests again. She almost allowed her class to be late for lunch again, only this time it was an impatient Samantha Bush tapping her foot in front of Sydney's desk that reminded her. She'd also failed dismally at explaining how to diagram a sentence to her first period class.  
  
It didn't occur to her to wonder where Lorrie had been until she got to the day care to pick up Jaime and Kaitlyn asked about "that cute little girl you had here yesterday."  
  
Sydney wondered about that on her way home. It was a short drive, however, and the dark sedan in her driveway once again pushed Lorrie's absence to the back of her mind.   
  
"Michael," Sydney said pleasantly when she opened the door to find him standing on the other side. "You're still here," she added, feigning surprise. "Did you find your way around all right?"  
  
She knew on an instinctive level that he detected the phony tone of her voice even before he pressed his lips together into a thin line.  
  
"I had no choice," he said, his voice cold. "It turns out no one else is willing to take this job. It's considered recruit work," he added.  
  
"Are you a recruit?" Sydney asked before she could catch herself, unconsciously leading him into the kitchen.  
  
"No," he snapped, unintentionally following her. "I'm…I volunteered. Agent Bristow wanted someone knowledgeable about the status of the Derevko case."  
  
"Are you involved in it?" Sydney asked, suddenly much more interested in Michael Vaughn, though only for the information he might be able to give her about her mother.  
  
It took Sydney several moments to realize he didn't answer her as she strapped Jaime into his high chair and found him some animal crackers. When she did she looked up sharply to see him staring at her, unmasked hate gleaming from his eyes. She gasped, and his face quickly became unreadable.  
  
Sydney stared at him, her eyes narrowing. She already disliked the idea of having some stranger around her home at all hours, and she certainly wouldn't want t o be in his shoes, but _he_ had volunteered for this job. If, for some unexplained reason, he hated her--and how could he when they'd never met? --why had he volunteered for a job he obviously considered beneath him?  
  
*************************************************************************************  
  
Lorrie had carefully avoided Sydney in school that day. She was the last one into the classroom during the period Sydney was her teacher, and the first one out. At lunch, Lorrie made sure to sit in the middle of a large group of girls from her class. After school, when Lorrie had to pass Sydney's open classroom door, she moved to the other side of the hall and hid among a throng of students hurrying for the bus.  
  
It wasn't that she didn't want to see Sydney; she did, very much. But if she talked to Sydney she'd have to tell her her plan. And she was sure Sydney wouldn't approve of it. Lorrie was planning to take that box of files that he clearly didn't want her to see from her father's office when she got home. As soon as she knew what was in that box, she'd show it all to Sydney. If it were all of the technical records she expected, Sydney would understand it better than she could anyway.  
  
Lorrie surprised herself when she arrived home. She kept looking over her shoulder, straining to hear if her father should arrive early. She couldn't justify her actions; she'd sat alone in that house for several hours after school for as long as they'd lived there, and her father had never gotten home before five. Still, she slipped into the office and closed the door behind her as if afraid someone might see her. She was relieved to see the small carton right there in the corner where it'd been the night before; she must have hid her interest in it well. As quietly as possible, she tugged the box down the hall into her room.  
  
She spread the top few files out on her bed and flipped through them. Three contained facts and figures that made no sense to her. The fourth on, however, she found shocking.  
  
When she first opened the file, she thought she'd come across some of the pictures her father had made a point of throwing out. But she didn't recognize any of the photos of her mother, and she was positive it _was_ her mother. In one shot, her mother was glancing off to the side with a nervous expression on her face. In another, she was wearing an odd, tight leather dress that was unbelievably short. Lorrie stared at that one for a moment before moving on. There were all types of pictures in the box; in some on them her mother wither wore wigs or had colored her hair, but it was undeniably her mother. All the pictures had one thing in common: they had been taken without Angela Miller's knowledge. Slowly, hands shaking, Lorrie turned a picture over, looking for a date. It was there, clearly printed on every photo. And every one of the dates was _after_ Angela Miller should have died in a car accident.   
  
Lorrie gathered up the pictures back into the file and tore down the hall and out her back door. She crossed the backyards in what could have been an Olympic record. Knowing Sydney would be home, she burst in through the back door without knocking.  
  
"Sydney!" she yelled frantically. "Sydney! Come look at this! Sydney! It's my…" Lorrie skidded to a stop and fell silent when she saw Sydney standing in the kitchen with a strange man. It wasn't Danny; Lorrie had seen him before, though she'd never actually met him. She stared wide-eyed at the stranger for a long moment, fear and timidity seeping into her manner. "I'm sorry," she stuttered finally to Sydney. "I didn't know you…I didn't think…" Lorrie dropped her eyes guiltily.  
  
"It's…it's okay, Lorrie. It's fine," Sydney said quickly. "My student, she lives behind us," Sydney explained to Michael, then turned back to Lorrie. "Remember that guard my father mentioned? This is him. Meet Michael Vaughn," she said, sounding disdainful despite her intentions.  
  
"Hi, Lorrie," Michael said quickly, as though to avoid a lull in conversation. "Is there a problem?" he tacked on to make it seem afterthought.   
  
Sydney and Lorrie both frowned at him, Lorrie in confusion but Sydney in irritation, her mouth drawing into a thin line. She then walked over to Jaime's high chair and plucked him from it. Putting her free arm around Lorrie's shoulders, she led the girl out of the kitchen. Lorrie remained confused as to why the man would care why she had come to talk to Sydney.  
  
Sydney led her into Jaime's nursery and closed the door firmly behind her. After settling Jaime in his playpen, she turned to Lorrie.  
  
"What's going on? You avoided me today," Sydney pointed out.  
  
Lorrie quickly related her story, including why she'd avoided Sydney and the file folder full of pictures, waving the folder in the air the entire time. When she started to show Sydney the pictures, she stopped her.  
  
"Let's go to your house to look at all this. You have all those other files in your bedroom?" Sydney asked.  
  
"Yeah, but my dad…" Lorrie protested.  
  
"I don't like talking about this with that CIA guy in there straining to hear every word we say," she said, raising her voice considerably on the last seven words. She was almost positive she heard footsteps moving away from the door.  
  
Sydney led the way out of her house, shooting Michael a death glare as she passed the kitchen, and waited for Lorrie to unlock her back door. Before she'd even left her own house, Sydney had decided she didn't need to look at the folder of pictures; she knew enough about technology to realize the picture couldn't be very reliable. When Lorrie led the way into her room, Sydney dove straight into the other files, trying to decode the abbreviations and short hand used. Lorrie kept trying to shove various pictures at her, but she was too involved in the files that she glanced at them barely long enough to make out a woman with a faintly familiar profile, and that didn't even register until much later.  
  
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Ooh, why would Lorrie's mother be familiar to Sydney? Could it be someone she knew before? Or maybe someone she knows now? Or is it…someone else?  
  
Review, por favor! (I think that's how you spell it…I've been listening to the drum major too much if I'm starting to use broken Spanish phrases any way…)


	7. It's Her Eyes

Chapter 7: It's Her Eyes  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, but this is my story!  
  
A/N: This story is going really well! Thanks for all the really good reviews, and even the criticizing ones aren't so bad…  
  
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"Sydney!" Lorrie snapped around 7:30. "I asked you to really look at these pictures! You might see something I'm missing!"  
  
Sydney came out of the daze she'd slipped into while looking through all the files. She reluctantly put aside the paper she was looking at and pressed her hands the palms of her hands into her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, Lorrie pressed the folder into her hands.  
  
She sighed and flipped the folder open. Then a gasp rose and stuck in her throat. Her eyes widened in horror. Her mouth gaped open. Her hands shook so violently that the pictures slid around in the open file.  
  
"Sydney?" she heard vaguely, as though from far away. "What's wrong? Sydney!" At the note of panic in Lorrie's voice, Sydney managed to snap out of the trance that held her just enough to propel the open folder away from her body, scattering the photographs everywhere, and whip her hands back up to her eyes, sure she must be hallucinating.   
  
Lorrie jumped away at Sydney's abrupt actions and hurried to gather the photos back into their folder. When she had, she shut it and left it sitting on the end of the bed, away from Sydney. Then she joined Sydney at the head of the bed, holding her breath. Sydney's breathing was short and ragged, but it gradually slowed to deep, deliberate breaths. Finally she took her hands away from her face and looked at Lorrie, who she knew she'd frightened. She tried to appear calm, but knew she failed.  
  
"Lorrie…" she said, uncertain of where to start.  
  
"Are you okay?" Lorrie interrupted quickly.  
  
She nodded impatiently. "Can I see those pictures again?" she asked softly, keeping her voice forcefully calm.  
  
Lorrie reluctantly reached for the folder and handed it to Sydney, watching her almost warily. Sydney didn't take the folder.  
  
"Give me just one of the pictures," Sydney instructed instead, her voice deathly quiet.  
  
She took the picture Lorrie handed her with her hands shaking so that she almost couldn't hold the picture.  
  
Instead of looking immediately at the woman in the picture, Sydney focused on little details. The setting appeared to be a business meeting; there were four other people in suits and ties in the picture. The woman wore a dark gray pinstriped suit, and black flat-soled shoes; she was too tall for heels. She held a mahogany colored leather brief case. Her dishwater blonde hair was twisted up in a careful chignon. She wore wire-rimmed glasses. And from behind those glasses peered Sydney's eyes. And Lorrie's, she added suddenly. She looked up at Lorrie's eyes closer, hoping for some hint that she couldn't be right. But it only confirmed what she already knew; Lorrie's nose, and her mouth, were identical to the woman in the picture, as were Sydney's.  
  
Sydney continued to stare, unable to believe it possible that she'd missed the strong resemblance before. Was that why Kaitlin had seemed surprised to see Lorrie, and instantly known she was with Sydney? Because she looked so much like Sydney? Or, even, could that be why Michael had looked at Lorrie so strangely and seemed so interested in her? May be he thought Sydney knew something she wasn't telling him.  
  
All these questions and more raced through Sydney's mind before Lorrie's voice broke through again, before she even reached questions of what that meant to her family.  
  
"Sydney? Why are you looking at me like that?" Lorrie asked, her voice raising an octave. "It's creepy. Stop. Stop it, please."  
  
Sydney blinked hard and looked away. Then she glanced back at the picture. Finally, Sydney looked back up at Lorrie.  
  
"I need to call my father. He's going to need to see this," she said slowly, careful not to become too frantic to communicate to Lorrie what was going on.  
  
"What? Why?" Lorrie asked, afraid she would end up in trouble.  
  
"Because…Lorrie, are you absolutely sure this is your mother?" Sydney asked, pleading for her to say that no, of course that wasn't her mother.  
  
"Yes," Lorrie said confidently. "It's her eyes," she explained. "They're just…"  
  
"I know," Sydney interrupted quickly, dropping her eyes. "I know."  
  
"What do you mean?" Lorrie asked in confusion, squinting as though the answer was about to appear on Sydney's forehead.  
  
"My mother…That's my mother," she said, gesturing at the picture.  
  
"You're…you're joking, right? I don't think that's very funny," Lorrie chided.  
  
Sydney shook her head. "That's my mother," she repeated.  
  
"How can you be sure? I mean…"  
  
"Her eyes," Sydney said shortly, holding Lorrie's gaze.  
  
"But…"  
  
Lorrie stopped when Sydney held up her hand and tossed the photo away from her.  
  
"Her eyes appear, at first glance, to be a soft, liquid brown. When you look closely, though, you can see tiny flecks of gold that seem to hint at a strength and confidence you don't see at first. The strength most people don't expect from a warm, loving woman," Sydney finished fondly. Then her expression hardened. "But even I never recognized the other thing that could have been read there, too. The coldness I never even glimpsed until now."  
  
Lorrie had begun to shake and cry silently, huge tears slipping unchecked down her cheeks. She knew, without a doubt, that the woman Sydney described could have been none other than her mother.  
  
"She's alive," Lorrie whispered in horror.  
  
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SHITAWKI MUSHROOMS! Does anybody know how to do HTML coding? I'm trying to learn it on my own, but I'm not getting anywhere!!! Everything comes back regular type, no formatting at all. Dang it!  
  
Er, anyway, let me know what you think of the chapter. And if any HTML experts should happen to read this, please drop me an e-mail if you'll help me out! 


	8. This is Irena Derevko

Chapter 8: This is Irina Derevko  
  
Disclaimer: If it's recognizable, it's probably not mine.   
  
A/N: Oops! I posted this chapter half-finished before…It must have been some glitch somewhere along the line, but I can't be sure, since the disk where I keep my originals got screwed up…Anyway, sorry about that!  
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"I left an agent with you, Sydney. He can handle whatever has come up," Jack said coldly.  
  
"Dad, I think you should see this first," Sydney said quietly, wrapping the cord of the phone in Lorrie's kitchen around her finger. She hadn't wanted to make the call with Agent Vaughn around. "There's something about that guy…I don't quite trust him."  
  
"I left an agent there to handle anything that comes up about Irina Derevko. Unless you have her in custody now, it's not my problem," Jack stated. "Agent Vaughn is more than qualified for his job."  
  
"But Dad, I really think…" Sydney stopped and sighed when she heard the phone on the other end being hung up with a decisive click.  
  
"Is he coming?" Lorrie asked. She'd gotten anything but a good impression of Jack Bristow, but she was sure he'd know exactly what to do. She'd agreed with Sydney once she'd calmed down: the only reasonable thing to do was call Jack Bristow.   
  
"No, he's not," Sydney said huffily, starting back toward Lorrie's room where they'd left all the pictures and other things. "I don't like this at all, but we have no other choice," she added, almost to herself.  
  
"Other than…?" Lorrie prompted, knowing the answer but not wanting to be the one to say it.  
  
"We have to take this to Michael Vaughn," Sydney said resignedly, like a person who's decided to simply face facts.  
  
"Sydney, are you sure we have to talk to that guy?" Lorrie whined. "He's weird. Did you see how he looked at me before?"  
  
Sydney nodded. "I don't like it either, but right now Michael Vaughn is our only link to the CIA. We have no other choice."  
  
By this time, they'd reached Lorrie's room. Sydney piled the folders into the box as quickly and orderly ads she could, anxious to get the meeting with Michael Vaughn over with. Just as she lifted the amazingly heavy box and started toward the door, they heard a car pull into the drive. Lorrie looked at Sydney, her eyes filled with panic.  
  
"We have to get out of here! I'm not supposed to have people over, and he'll kill me if he finds out I took this stuff from his office!" Lorrie hissed.  
  
"I'm trying! This is heavy!" Sydney gasped. "Help me with it!"

With both of them carrying it, they just managed to get out of the back door before the front door opened. They walked as fast as possible under the weight of the box, but both felt that they weren't moving fast enough. Danny stared at them when they burst in the back door.

"Sydney? Where have you been? I've been worried…honey, what's wrong?" Danny asked, noting his wife's wild eyes.

"Where's Michael?" Sydney asked instead of answering him.

"He's in the kitchen. But what's going on?" Danny asked again, looking from his wife to Lorrie, who seemed to be waiting for someone to burst through the back door behind her.

Sydney ignored him again and carried the box into the kitchen. She dumped it onto the table and pulled out one of the manila folders containing pictures, but didn't open it.

"Mr. Vaughn, could you identify Irina Derevko if you saw her?" she asked quickly.

"Of course. I…" Michael started.

Sydney pulled out one of the pictures, carefully avoiding looking at it herself, and handed it to Lorrie. "Tell him who this is," she ordered.

Lorrie took a step closer to Michael and held up the picture, offering it to him to get a closer look at. 

"This is my mother," she said quietly as his eyes narrowed distrustfully.

Danny, the only one oblivious enough to notice such things, saw the man's face contort into a hate-filled stare as he looked at the picture now in his hand.

"Who is she, Mr. Vaughn?" "Sydney asked forcefully, watching him carefully. Suddenly she, too, saw the hate in his look.

"Irina Derevko," he said through gritted teeth, fighting to get his emotions under control.

Danny watched him warily, as though afraid he was about to snap. Michael saw it, and it only irritated him further.

"What's going on?" Danny growled again, throwing up his hands in frustration but glad for the momentary lull in the conversation that allowed him to get a word in edgewise.

Sydney finally turned around to face him, an apologetic look in her eyes. She started to explain it the best she could.

"My mother's real name is Irina Derevko. She faked her death…"

"I _know_ that…"

Sydney held up a hand.

"Lorrie's mother, it seems, also faked her death." She pulled another photo from the folder she had absently tossed on the table. "This is Lorrie's mother."

Michael stepped up and looked at the picture for a second.

"This is Irina Derevko," Michael muttered quietly. 

Danny stood in shocked silence.

"So…she," Danny gestured at Lorrie, "Is your half sister?" He asked Sydney, introducing a rather pleasant idea that had not entered into Sydney or Lorrie's mind.

There were four very confused people in that kitchen, each with their brains working overtime trying to process the almost unthinkable information flying all around them.

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Taylor Miller was surprised, and a little angry, to come home to find an empty house. In the years he and his daughter had lived in that house, Lorrie had always been in the house somewhere. After a thorough search, he became angry that she'd left and not left a note anywhere. Plus, it was late; nearly eight o'clock. That, he decided, is too late for a twelve-year-old to be gone without telling anyone she's going to be. He'd make that very clear when she got home.

Meanwhile, he might as well take advantage of her absence. He wanted to go through his files on Angie, then he'd have to hide them; he was sure, now that Lorrie was curious, that she would find them if he left them where he'd kept them for years.

Angie. He sighed, realizing that even after all he'd found out he still thought of her using an affectionate nickname. Hell, it probably wasn't even her real name. He still hadn't found out about that. He did know that when you poked around Angie's past more than a few years before they met, she didn't exist.

Taylor walked into his office and straight toward the corner where his files should have been. Then he stopped dead. The box wasn't there.

Lorrie wasn't home. His box of files on her mother was missing. It didn't take a genius to guess Lorrie had decided to do a little digging of her own. He was afraid she'd found something disturbing enough to disappear. What if one of those many things locked away in her thoughts helped her to make a connection he'd completely missed?

But what could she have found? All that was there were financial reports from the time they were married. And those photos, but Lorrie wouldn't realize they were from _after_ the woman supposedly died.

I have to find her, he thought. But where did he start?

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"I have to notify Agent Bristow of this…twist," Michael said, attempting a tight grin but ending up in a sort of grimace.

"I already did," Sydney said, deciding she wanted to see what their Mr. Vaughn was like in action.

"He's on his way?" Michael said absently, settling himself at the kitchen table with the rest of them.

Sydney laughed, sort of a disbelieving snort. "If my father was coming, Mr. Vaughn, I would not have brought this to you."

"He's not coming?" Michael asked in amazement, staring at her for a moment before averting his gaze.

"He said you were more than qualified to handle whatever came up," Sydney said, feeling only the slightest bit guilty about lying to him.

Michael shook his head. "You're sure?" he asked reluctantly.

"That's exactly what he said," she replied, sounding sure of herself.

Michael sighed. "Okay. Let's get this straight, then."

"Yes, let's," Danny said sarcastically. "You two haven't said one thing that makes sense to me since you walked in that door," he complained at Sydney and Lorrie.

"Sorry," Sydney said, "But you'll have to wait until later to make sense of it all." She turned and shuffled through some files until she found what she was looking for: a printout clearly labeled with a date and "Spending for May." "This was when Lorrie was five," Sydney said to Michael. "You can see the things this mother did with her daughter by what was spend. A trip to the zoo, and a stuffed tiger. Fairly common, but exactly the type of thing my mother did with me. Now look at this." She pointed further down the page. "The admission to an art museum. What woman in her right mind would take a five year old to any museum? If you keep going through this file, month by month, you can see that trips to museums were common." Sydney pushed the file across the table to Michael. She continued quietly. "When I was little, my mother took me to museums. She said children should enjoy learning, and that was one way she knew to make it fun."

Lorrie stared at Sydney in surprise for a moment, then the surprise gave way to logic. Of course, Sydney could see her think.

"Mom said it, too," Lorrie whispered sadly, sliding down in her seat and wrapping her arms around herself. She sat silently for a moment then suddenly sat up again. "My dad! He'll know the box is gone by now! What am I gonna tell him?" she moaned.

Michael gave Lorrie another odd look, but instead of intimidating, this one had a comforting effect.

"Tell him you went to a friend's house. Don't explain this," Michael warned. "This is an ongoing investigation."

"I should really get home," Lorrie said, hearing Michael's advice but not taking time to discuss it. "Dad's probably really mad by now."

Michael smiled calmly. "You'll be okay. We'll be ready to help you if you need it."

Michael walked with Lorrie to the back door, just to comfort her a little. As he left the kitchen, Sydney caught his eye. Perhaps it had to do with the look in her eyes, a mixture of curiosity and sympathy, that caught his attention. Whatever the cause, he held her gaze until he disappeared from the room. The haunted look Sydney had glimpsed, however, did not leave with him. A mental picture of him as he left followed her for days to come.

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Dang, I've really got to fix whatever is screwing up my disks…half of my chapters keep disappearing!


	9. Nothing to Tell

Chapter 9: Nothing To Tell  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Alias. _Sigh…_  
  
A/N: This will all come together in the next few chapters, just bear with me a little longer…  
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By Saturday, two other agents had been sent during the week to relieve Michael for short spells. Sydney had an uncomfortable feeling the first time that he had been to see an unhappy Jack Bristow, because when he returned he gave Sydney a look fit to kill. She wasn't sure later that she hadn't imagined the look, because he never mentioned it to her and he never acted angry other than that once. It occurred to her that he seemed to be guarding his expression carefully.  
  
Lorrie's father had, predictably, been furious when Lorrie refused to tell him where she'd been. She must have been convincing, because he was sure that she'd been up to no good. He forbade her to leave the house after school, specifically to see people he didn't know. She had screamed, fully matching Taylor Miller's considerable temper, "You can't do anything about it if I want to leave the house and you're not here to stop me!"  
  
Sydney was surprised when Lorrie told her during lunch one day shortly after that incident that she thought Michael Vaughn was really trying to help.  
  
"What makes you say that?" Sydney asked, hoping to sound conversational.  
  
"He looked really worried the other night when he asked if my dad might hit me. I think if I'd told him he would, he would have taken me over there himself to make sure I didn't get hurt or something." Lorrie shrugged as though the conversation were normal, every day, student-teacher lunchroom conversation.  
  
"Really?" Sydney was surprised that, in spite of what they'd discovered, Lorrie had still managed to make observations like that. "I wonder if he has kids? He can't have any living with him alone, and I can't really picture our Mr. Vaughn married."  
  
"I don't think he does," Lorrie said thoughtfully. "He might have mentioned not being married."  
  
"When did he tell you that?" Sydney asked, looking at her in surprise.  
  
"He didn't, not really. I think he just made a comment that made me think he wasn't married, I can't remember now. So I don't think he has kids."  
  
"Oh." Sydney let it drop and instead sat there wondering why she should be so curious about this man.  
  
That particular Saturday, Danny had been asked to word his usual weekday hours in the ER, as they were shorthanded. Knowing Sydney was uncomfortable staying there with the "CIA guy," as he still referred to him, Danny offered to stay home, but Sydney urged him to go ahead and work.  
  
"I'm a big girl, Danny," she joked. "I can be around someone I don't like without starting a fight."  
  
So Sydney found herself creating tasks to keep her and Jaime away from Michael Vaughn. She put Jaime in his crib with some toys and cleaned his nursery unmercifully. Then she took him into the den and put him in his playpen while she thoroughly cleaned that room, something she hadn't done since Jaime was born. All through this, Michael stayed conveniently holed up in the kitchen under the pretense of making important phone calls. As soon as Sydney sat Jaime in his high chair to fix his lunch, Michael migrated to the den. At that point, Sydney had become suspicious that he was avoiding her as avidly as she was avoiding him. As soon as that thought entered her head, she forgot about avoiding him and had the sudden urge to talk to him, find out what he was all about. Even as she told herself how unreasonable she was being, cornering a guy she didn't want to be near, she was making two sandwiches and putting them on plates to take into the den. She fed Jaime as quickly as he would allow, then somehow juggled Jaime and the two plates until she reached the den, where she let Jaime down.  
  
Michael didn't even look up when she entered the room, just rose to leave. So much for coincidence, she thought with a grin.  
  
"Where are you going? I brought you lunch," she said innocently, as though she'd be hurt if he didn't eat it.  
  
"I…don't want to be in your way," he replied, still not looking at her. "I'm here to work. You don't need to entertain me."  
  
"I'm not," she said shrugging. She weaved around furniture until she blocked his exit and stood facing him in front of the couch. "I just thought that since you've been here alone all week you might like some company."  
  
Knowing he couldn't politely refuse her offer, and knowing she knew it too, Michael sat back down. Sydney sat of the other end of the couch and handed him a plate, sitting just far enough away that she wasn't too close, but he couldn't get between her and the table in front of them, either. She watched him carefully from the corner of her eye, noted him doing the same, and fished for a conversation topic.  
  
"What made you want to join the CIA?" she asked curiously, deciding that had to be a safe enough topic. It surprised her when he visibly flinched.  
  
"My father was an agent," he choked out gruffly.  
  
Sydney nodded, trying not to show she'd noticed his reaction.  
  
"Must have been tough. I guess none of the agents tell their kids what they do?" she asked, feeling guilty about keeping up with the obviously painful conversation.  
  
"I was an adult before my mother told me the truth about my father's…" He stopped abruptly.  
  
Sydney's eyes grew wide, and her voice reflected her genuine sympathy. "He wasn't…killed…was he?" she asked, horrified that she'd started this conversation.  
  
Michael's lips stretched into a pale thin line, his eyes narrowed into slits, his hands clenched the ceramic plate so hard he was afraid he'd break it.  
  
"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…to pry," Sydney stuttered, having taken note of his reaction.  
  
"It's fine," he forced out from between clenched teeth, closing his eyes tightly to block the dizzying anger sweeping through him. Then he opened them to glare at her. "You didn't know," he said, but his eyes said different.  
  
Sydney dropped her eyes, feeling horrible.  
  
"I really am sorry," she mumbled again, studying her hands.  
  
Michael glanced at her and instantly knew it was a mistake; he saw emotions reflected in her brown eyes that he's have been better off thinking her incapable of. What he saw scared him. Tears had formed in her eyes, and he saw the genuine compassion, and the regret that she'd asked him about his father, and…guilt? Did she feel guilty about what had just occurred? It wasn't her fault…  
  
"I'm sorry," she said again quietly.  
  
Michael sighed and tried to relax.  
  
"It's fine," he said again, more gently. "I shouldn't let it all get to me again," he continued, knowing he was going to tell her things her shouldn't. "It's not your fault." He was getting too comfortable. "It's not you. It's your m-" Damn, he though, clamping his mouth shut.  
  
"My…what?" Sydney said, looking at him in confusion.   
  
Michael stood abruptly and paced around the room, but he didn't leave like she'd expected. Instead, he can back to stand in front of her.  
  
"Did it ever occur to you to wonder why I took this assignment? I told you this was recruit work, but I'm not a recruit."  
  
Sydney nodded. "I wondered. But I didn't think it was any of my business."  
  
"Neither do I. But if I'm going to be around you, and Lorrie, and act the way I do, you should at least know why."  
  
"Is it the same reason you won't look at me?" Sydney asked quietly.  
  
He looked surprised, then seemed to realize that he should have expected her to notice. He nodded, somewhat guiltily, before he paced around the room again.   
  
"Mrs. Hecht…"  
  
"Sydney," she corrected automatically.  
  
"Sydney…" Michael looked at her a little uncertainly, seriously doubting whether he should tell her. "Your mother…she was the one who killed my father," he said quietly. He turned away to blink back tears he hadn't expected.  
  
Sydney sat in stunned silence for a long time. Only one thought penetrated her consciousness.  
  
"I look like her," she said. "That's why you've hated me from the moment you walked through my door. Lorrie looks like her too, but she's still just a little girl."  
  
"I don't hate you," Michael defended softly, keeping his back to her. "I don't even know you."  
  
"You hate that I look like her. Why _did_ you take this job?" she asked before he could object.  
  
"Because, if that woman shows up I want to be the one to take her in or take her down," he said gruffly, his voice so full of passion that it was scary.  
  
Sydney could only stand up and stop Jaime from pulling an entire stack of books down on his head, Michael watching her carefully the whole time.  
  
"You said Derevko seemed like the perfect mother?" he asked at last.  
  
Sydney looked at him curiously before she answered. "Yes," she said defensively. She did everything a mother should do, and she always seemed genuinely happy."  
  
"You were six years old."   
  
"Exactly."  
  
"I can't see her that way. I hate to think of her as a good mother, because then it seems wrong to think of her as a murderer," Michael said as they both returned to the couch with amazing calm.  
  
"I hate to think of her as a murderer," Sydney said softly, holding Jaime on her lap and hugging him. "Because then it seems wrong to think of her as a mother. As my mother. Especially now," she added.  
  
They sat in an uncomfortable silence, both thinking it was at the very least, safer than conversation. Probably even more comfortable. But Sydney couldn't leave it alone. She'd come to talk to Agent Michael Vaughn, and she did not intended to pass up this opportunity.  
  
"Tell me about yourself," Sydney said companionably. "You can see for yourself what my life is like. Tell me about yours."  
  
"Nothing to tell," he said shortly. "I'm not married, no kids, no dog, only relative I know of is my mother. I spend a lot of time working. My job is pretty much 24/7," he concluded. "As you can see."  
  
"You're an only child?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So am I. Well…until now," she said, grinning weakly. "Did you ever wish when you were a kid that you had siblings?"   
  
He shrugged. "Actually, no. I saw how annoying siblings were when I was a kid. I was in high school before I ever wished I had a brother."  
  
"Growing up, I always saw kids my age with little brothers and sisters…" She did some quick math. "I'd have loved to have a baby sister when I was fourteen," she concluded.  
  
"It must be strange to find out you have a sister after all," he said, appearing much more relaxed now that they were talking about her life.  
  
"It's even stranger to realize her father doesn't want her to see me, but he doesn't know I exist, let alone that I'm her teacher, and that my father knows all about it but hasn't so much as called me since we talked last week and I said something that sent him over the top, but I have no clue what," she babbled, thoroughly irritated with her father.  
  
For the first time since Sydney had met him, Michael cracked a genuinely amused grin. He was laughing at her! She stared at him for a moment, trying, wanting to be furious, but then she smiled too.  
  
"I sound insane, don't I?" she laughed.  
  
Michael smiled wider. "Only to a normal person. I was able to make sense of most of it. It's a gift," Michael joked.  
  
Sydney smiled and allowed Jaime to wriggle to the floor. She had come looking to find out more about the mysterious man living in her house, and she'd done that. Somehow, she felt confident that in the process she'd made a friend. She'd not only found out why he looked at her so strangely from time to time--something she doubted many people had heard from him--but also gotten to see a lighter, almost playful side of him--something she doubted he'd shown to many people.  
  
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Aw, how sweet…unfortunately I had to unravel that friendship in the next chapter. I'm a S/V shippie all the way, but I don't want Syd cheating on Danny. May be I'm kill Danny off, get him out of the way…


	10. Trouble

Chapter 10: Trouble

Disclaimer: Only Lorrie, Taylor, and Angela Miller are really mine. And Kaitlin. And our…oh, wait, I can't tell you about him yet!

A/N: You guys have all been great! I've gotten a lot of encouraging reviews, as well as some good criticism. I love you guys for putting up with my irregular postings, my technical errors, and everything else!

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Sydney slipped over to see Lorrie later that day, about an hour before she expected Danny home, and brought Jaime with her. She wasn't sure why she went over there; if Taylor Miller caught her Lorrie would be in trouble, and he might recognize her resemblance to his missing wife. She just felt like, in light of what Michael had revealed, she needed to talk to Lorrie.

Sydney knocked on the back door of Lorrie's house, which was quickly thrown open.

"Sydney, what are you doing here?!?" Lorrie cried. "If my dad catches you, I'll be in trouble, and I what he'll do to you!"

"I know, Lorrie," Sydney said soothingly. "After all, you said I look like your…my…_our_ mother, so he might think so, too. I can't risk letting him see me, but if he drives up, we'll hear him. Now can I come in? I'll only stay a few minutes."

Lorrie considered for a moment before stepping back. "He cant' see you," she reminded her urgently.

Sydney said nothing as Lorrie led her through the kitchen, then the living room, and down the hall into her room. Instead, she thought about what exactly she planned to tell Lorrie. For some reason, Sydney felt instinctively that eventually it would be important for Lorrie to realize the full extent of what Irina Derevko had done. Did that mean she expected the woman to contact Lorrie, too?

In the end, Sydney decided to be honest and tell Lorrie all of what she knew.

"Sydney, what are you doing here?" Lorrie repeated as she sat cross-legged on her bed.

"I…I found out why Michael Vaughn is so…strange around us," Sydney said, not sure she should have started that way.

"Really? Why?" Lorrie asked interestedly.

"Lorrie…" Sydney closed her eyes and shook her head.

Lorrie's eyes lost their gleam of childish curiosity and became worried. "What?"

"Our mother…I mean…she killed his father," Sydney forced herself to say, seeing again the pained, angry expression he'd worn when he told her. Would he really have wanted her to immediately come tell someone else his secret? She wondered guiltily.

"And he's _living_ with you, when you look just like her?" Lorrie exclaimed. "It must be terrible for him!" Then her eyes filled with tears as reality sunk in. "No! She couldn't have! Not Mom!"

"It was her, Lorrie. If you'd seen Michael when he told me…you'd have to believe it," Sydney said, sitting beside Lorrie and putting her arm around her. "I'm sorry. I know. I know," she murmured.

"I can't believe _my_ mom could do that," Lorrie whispered, working hard to hold back the tears. She was silent for a long time. "Can I talk to Michael?" she asked suddenly.

Sydney looked down at her in surprise and obvious disapproval of the idea. "Lorrie, I don't think that's a good idea. It was hard for him to tell me about his dad, it was like he was letting me in on some big secret. I don't think he'll like it that I came and told you about it. I only did that because the more we know about what she did, the less likely we'll be to let her cause trouble by thinking she's a sweet, wonderful person. She'll hurt us like that," Sydney said, before she even realized that she was repeating word for word something Michael had said about Derek a few days before.

Lorrie considered what Sydney said then seemed to drop the idea.

"M…Our mother really did that stuff? She really killed people?" she asked tearfully, practically begging Sydney to tell her it was all lies.

Tears filled Sydney's eyes too now.

"I'm afraid she did. Lorrie, if you'd seen Michael, you'd believe it too," Sydney said again.

"So let me talk to him," Lorrie insisted. "I'll be careful what I say, I won't be blunt about it." She used one of her vocabulary words from Sydney's class, getting a smile from her teacher.

Sydney sighed. "Okay," she relented, snatching Jaime up off the floor before Lorrie's math homework found its way into his mouth. "Do you have time before your dad gets home?"

"I don't care. I might. I want to talk to Mr. Vaughn as soon as possible," Lorrie said firmly.

"Okay, Lorrie," Sydney repeated. "But we have to be careful. This is a CIA investigation, and if your dad finds out about this both of us and even Agent Vaughn could get in big trouble."

Lorrie nodded. "Okay. Now, let's go before it's too late," she urged.

*************************************************************************************Vaughn frowned disapprovingly at Sydney when she and Lorrie walked into the living room. "What's she doing here?" he asked rudely. Then, noticing his own tone, added, "I mean, what if her father should come home early or something?"

Lorrie stepped in front of Sydney and stood with her hands on her hips. "Why can't you talk to me? Can't you stop talking about me like I can't hear you?" she snapped.

Vaughn looked at her in surprise, as though amazed that this little girl wasn't afraid of this man that was used to inspiring obedience in rebellious recruits.

Sydney interpreted his look another way, and she put her arm around Lorrie's shoulders. "Tell us, Mr. Vaughn, what is so repulsive about Lorrie that you can't talk to her?" She asked in a defensive tone, and received a look saying she already knew that answer in response.

Then Vaughn stood from his seat on the couch and held out his hands. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, careful to direct his answer towards both Sydney and Lorrie. "And it's just…simpler not to speak to you, Lorrie. I don't think you could understand." 

Completely ignoring his attempts at an apology, Lorrie pressed on. "I look like her, don't I? Is that why it's 'simpler' not to talk to me?" she inquired, crossing her arms and waiting for his reaction. She already knew the answer, but he frustrated her, and she wanted to make him say it.

Vaughn stared at Lorrie for a moment before shifting his gaze to Sydney. He waited for her to guiltily meet his eyes before he spoke. "Does she mean," he said slowly when she finally looked at him, "What I think she means?"

Sydney sighed. "Yes. I thought she should…"

"I didn't intend to tell you that," Vaughn said loudly, raising his voice. He spoke coldly and slowly, drawing out each cutting syllable. "It was a mistake to tell anyone, but more so to tell you." He turned and paced a few steps, then turned back to them. "Yes, both of you look like exhaust replicas of the cold- blooded, evil woman that killed my father," he said, his eyes gone dull and unreadable; even the coldness was gone. "Now, I'm taking the little girl back where she belongs before her father discovers her missing."

"I'll walk her back," Sydney said softly, fearful of the dullness in his eyes and not wanting to leave Lorrie with him.

"No, I can't have you compromising an investigation by letting that man see you." He grabbed Lorrie roughly by her arm and pulled her toward the door. She struggled to escape his grasp, struggling to pull her arm free. "Come on, Lorrie," he said, giving her an extra rough tug. "I believe someone just pulled into your driveway."

Lorrie gasped and stopped fighting immediately. Sydney followed, and at the door Vaughn turned to face both of them. 

"Don't let me catch either of you were you don't belong again. Mrs. Hecht, you are not to go into Taylor Miller's house, and Lorrie, you better stay out of this house. Your father is not to find out about your connection to Mrs. Hecht until the CIA okays it," he added as they continued out the door.

"Come find me in the morning, Lorrie," Sydney called softly, afraid of Taylor Miller hearing.

"Okay," Lorrie called back.

*************************************************************************************

by the time the pair reached Lorrie's back door, Taylor Miller was already inside, calling for Lorrie. Lorrie lunged for the door, but Michael held her back. 

"Damn," he muttered. "We'll have to do this the hard way. Come on," he added, jogging toward the trees at the edge of the yard. 

"Hey!" Lorrie protested.

"Come on!" Michael snapped. 

"But I'll be in trouble!"

"Not as much as you'd be in if you came through the back door. He'd know where you'd been."

Under the cover of the trees, Lorrie jerked loose and faces Michael. "What are you doing?!?" she asked incredulously.

"Keeping you from getting caught." Michael paced about two steps and asked, " How well does your dad know the neighbors around here?"

Lorrie shrugged. "He wouldn't know Mrs. Smith from Old Mr. Cagen," she laughed humorlessly.

"Good. Look, we're going through a few back yards. We'll walk back up the road and I'll tell your father I caught you in my yard doing…I don't know, _something_. Just act guilty, okay?" Michael implored.

"He'll be furious!" Lorrie cried as he helped her over the fence separating her yard from the next one.

"Got any better ideas? I think this is best," he muttered. Lorrie noticed he avoided looking at her, but decided that this wasn't the time to mention it.

"Fine." As had become her habit, she switched topics abruptly. "Did you mean what you said about me staying away from Sydney's house?"

"Yes," he said shortly. When she didn't respond, he glanced over at her. 

He saw the lost, sad look on her face, and the resigned way she took the news; she wouldn't fight it. She seemed to believe it had simply been too good to last. He sighed. 

"Look," he said, "I can't tell you to stay away from Sydney's house, not now anyway. That's not my decision at this point. I won't complain about it as long as you don't do anything stupid and you leave by six. And your dad doesn't find out."

Lorrie wasn't sure what to say. This offer, if you could call it that, was anything but generous. A snappish reply seemed out of place. Before she could say anything, he grabbed her arm like he had before and began to walk along the sidewalk back toward her house. 

"Look guilty," he muttered.

Upon reaching her front door, he pounded his fist against it angrily, keeping a tighter than necessary grip on her arm.

"Ow!" she mumbled before her father opened the door.

Michael heard her cry and loosened his grip on the girl's arm. He knew he shouldn't think that way, but she looked so much like her mother…

"What's going on here?" Taylor Miller snapped, looking form Michael to Lorrie, to his grip on her arm, and noted Lorrie's well timed struggle to break loose.

"This is your kid, right?" Michael growled.

"Yeah, she's mine," Miller said defensively. "What's going on?"

"I caught this brat…"

"Dad, I didn't…" Lorrie interrupted with perfect timing.

"Hush up, Lorrie. What'd she do?" Miller asked Michael.

"This brat was snipping roses off my wife's bushes," Michael lied. He shoved her in past her father.

"I'll take care of it," Miller said, shutting the door in Michael's face. No wonder he doesn't know the neighbor's, he thought.

"I just wanted a couple for my room!" hw heard Lorrie shout a moment later. "Nobody would have missed them, there were like a couple dozen bushes out there!"

She's good, Michael thought. Very convincing. _Just like her mother must have been…_

He shook that thought away and doubled back over the route he'd taken with Lorrie. He hoped she'd be okay; something about Miller just didn't sit right with him…

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So, Michael thinks Taylor Miller might be up to something…or may be he's in trouble…

What do you think? This is about to get really good, just you wait!

Please Review!


	11. Some Complications

Chapter 11: Some Complications

Disclaimer: If only…the closest I'll ever come is fanfiction.

A/N: Please note the poll at the end…it could very well determine how I decide to end the story!

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Sydney jumped when the front door opened; it was too early for Danny to be home. When she saw it was Vaughn, she had to restrain herself from jumping at him.

"Where have you been? What happened? What took so long?" she cried, cornering Michael just inside the door.

Michael frowned at her, grasped her shoulders, and moved her a few steps away from. He found her presence, and especially her close proximity, somewhat disconcerting. He carefully kept the coldness shielding his eyes.

"We ran into some complications," he said, keeping his answer vague enough to bait her. He liked to see her riled up.

"What do you mean complications?" she cried. 

He stifled a grin, and Jaime started crying down the hall, distressed by him mother's tone.

Sydney frowned, gave a low growl of frustration, and spun away. Before she disappeared around the corner she snapped, "Don't move! I'll be right back, and you're going to tell me what happened!"

Michael grinned at her hastily retreating back. As she slipped into Jaime's room, he allowed himself a soft chuckle. Ignoring her all too clear order to stay put, he went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from eh refrigerator.

Sydney walked in silently, and managed to surprise Michael. He had an almost soft look on his face; his eyes took on a warm tone and he had a soft smile on his lips. But when he saw her standing behind him, watching him, he erased the smile and the depths of his green eyes became unreadable before she had a chance to recognize the appealing quality hidden there.

"How smart is Lorrie?" he asked curiously. He seemed slightly friendlier for the moment.

"What do you mean?" Sydney asked, settling Jaime in his high chair and putting a handful of Cheerios on the tray before she sat down across the table from Michael. "Intelligence? Book smarts? Common sense?"

Michael explained what he'd done with Lorrie, and to his surprise she understood. It struck him that she was more approachable just then than she usually was.

"I guess we can't let her dad know who either of us are," she said with a sigh.

"My question is, can she pull it off? Can she, and will she, convince him she snuck off to steal my wife's roses?" Michael asked, allowing himself a self-depreciating grin.

"So you're not married?" Sydney said, grinning then blushing. She continued without waiting for him to answer. "She's smart. I've seen her convince a teacher she did her homework but her dog ate it that very morning, when she didn't have a dog. She'll pull this off, easy." After a few moments filled with silence, she added, "I'll find out what happened after you left. She'll find me in the morning."

"Good. Despite what you might think, I didn't want to get her in trouble. I tried to sneak her through the back door, but he was already in the house. And it would have seemed weird for me to take her to the back if he'd seen me, so I had to make a choice between being the strange guy or the disgruntled neighbor. Now if Miller should see me around, he won't get suspicious," Michael babbled, filling the silence.

"And it's more important that we remain anonymous than that Lorrie remains the perfect," Sydney said, smiling slightly. Her grin dissolved into a frown as she decided to voice a troubling thought that had plagued her progressively worse since she'd had discovered her connection to Lorrie. "Michael, what if my…Irina Derevko finds out we know who Lorrie is? I don't know how Lorrie will react if she contacts her."

"I don't know what Derevko might do. She'll know that there's a chance that if we know about Lorrie, she'll know too. That would make it pretty risky for her to contact Lorrie." Michael shook his head, then looked directly at Sydney. "If Derevko surfaces around here again, I'm going to suggest taking both Lorrie and you to a safe house. It may also be necessary to take Taylor Miller into protective custody; I'm not sure it's safe to tell him everything," he said honestly.

Sydney's eyes widened. "You mean we'd have to just…disappear? I have a job, and Lorrie has to go to school, and Danny…"

"If he wants to say with you, Danny can stay in the safe house too," Michael said, meaning to reassure her but sounding a little to curt to be comforting. Sydney marveled at how fast his whole demeanor changed as her draped the coldness about himself like armor.

Sydney mentally shrugged it off and adopted the same business-like attitude.

"Do you think Derevko will show back up here?" she asked bluntly. 

"She's started something," Michael answered quickly, having been thinking just that. "She's not one to let things go unfinished."

"How long?"

Michael rose from his chair and stood over Sydney where she sat, as though he needed the advantage.

"I would suggest that you put in for an extended leave starting the day after tomorrow. Tell them it's personal. Give them an excuse. Tell them an aunt died. What ever you do, don't…"

Sydney stood up abruptly and cut him off.

"Don't tell them I'm taking off because the mother I thought is dead is back, I have a younger sister I never knew existed living behind me and she's a student in my class, and I can't stay because my mother poses a threat to my sister?" Sydney said in a falsely bright tone. Then her voice hardened. "I can't tell them that anyway, Mr. Vaughn. They'd strap me into a straight jacket and pack me off to the nearest mental asylum before I even got to my excuse: my secret agent body guard made me do it," she said sarcastically.

"Something like that," he said in a low voice that wasn't nearly as angry as he would have liked, but Sydney didn't notice.

As they stood facing off, the tension seemed to seep into the room, oozing through every crack and smothering them. Jaime had even stopped smashing his Cheerios, and sat staring up at the two.

"Ma-ee?" Jaime said quietly, splitting the almost tangible tension.

Sydney smiled and her entire expression softened, even while she looked over her shoulder at Michael.

"What, baby? Did Mommy talk too much with Mr. Vaughn and not talk to you? I'm sorry." She lifted him to her hip. 

Michael stood silently and watched as Sydney bustled around the kitchen one-handed, pulling out a sippy cup and lid, and a bottle of juice from the refrigerator. She chattered away to him the entire time. He can't understand a word, Michael thought in awe, yet she talks as if he does. He fought down an urge to smile and join in the one-sided conversation.

When she finally put Jaime back in his high chair with his juice, she turned toward Michael. He hadn't expected her to turn so quickly, and he was caught in a grin.

"What?" she asked, smiling at him. 

"I, uh…I just like watching you…with the baby," Michael blundered. 

"Really?" Sydney said, raising her eyebrows.

When Michael had turned a bright shade of red, Sydney changed the subject.

"Look, Michael, we can't keep doing this. In one day we've gone from enemies to best friends and back again three times. It's exhausting. Let's agree to just get along and be on the same side." Sydney's eyes became teary and she blinked them back. There was no hint of them in her voice when she spoke again. "If my mother comes back, we both need to know we can count on each other. The two of us, and Lorrie, have to be very careful," she added, knowing she was telling him something he already knew. He needed to know she knew it, too. "And to be honest, I'm scared. I'm scared of my mother, and I need to know you're on my side, Michael."

Michael stared at her for a moment, their eyes locking again. Frightened by something she couldn't pinpoint, Sydney was the one to look away. Only then did Michael find himself able to speak.

"You're right. We're making this harder than it has to be. We can't be enemies, but being friendly will only complicate matters," he said much more harshly than he intended. Sydney thought it sounded cold.

*************************************************************************************

The night before, at Michael's suggestion, Sydney and Danny had packed bags so they could be ready to leave at a moments notice. She'd also promised to tell Lorrie to do the same. But when Lorrie found her that morning nearly in tears, and seeming to kick herself all the more for it, Sydney forgot about the safe house for the moment.

"Lorrie, what's wrong?" Sydney asked in concern, rushing to close the door before anyone witnessed Lorrie's state; teachers getting emotionally involved with students was frowned upon.

"My dad was furious!" Lorrie sobbed, losing her last shred of control. "When I woke up, he was still there! He's never home that late. He said something about making sure I wasn't skipping school. He just glared at me, and I feel so guilty about lying to him last night. I think he plans on being home today when I get there, too. Sydney, I just can't take much more of him looking at me like that! The only time I've _ever_ seen him look like that is when he was looking at pictures of my mother!" Lorrie moaned.

Sydney hugged her comfortingly and said gently but firmly, once she'd regained her power of thought, "Stop, Lorrie. I know this is hard, but it's hard on everyone, even Agent Vaughn. Now calm down, I need to talk to you."

It took Lorrie several minutes to become coherent, and when she had they only had a few minutes before the bell.

"What's going on now?" Lorrie asked, wiping at her eyes.

"Lorrie, Michael thinks it might be better, if our mother shows up, to get us into a safe house. And…" Sydney paused, trying to find the right words. "He's considering, if that happens, taking your father into protective custody. He's been poking around in things Irina Derevko wants left alone, and he could be in more trouble than either of us."

Lorrie just nodded.

"When you get home, pack a bag with some clothes and stuff but keep it hidden. If you have to get away, bring it. Don't…"

"Don't let Dad see me packing," Lorrie finished. "He'd just think I was running away," she said, shrugging.

Sydney opened her mouth to say something, but the bell rang. She smiled encouragingly instead.

"Scat," she said, half-joking but gentle. "I'll see you later. You'll be okay?"

Lorrie shrugged and nodded. Not too reassuring, Sydney thought.

*************************************************************************************

Sydney's day was mostly a blur. She taught a new lesson, but by the end of the day she couldn't remember most of it. At lunch, Sydney noticed that Lorrie had planted herself among a group of talkative girls, the kind that carry on their own conversations and never notice if someone else doesn't talk. Sydney caught her eye once, but she quickly looked away.

When Sydney walked out of the school building just before four o'clock, she had a feeling she was being watched. She looked carefully as she slipped into her car. 

"You're losing it," she told herself as she sat there, willing her pulse to return to normal.

--------------------6 hours earlier--------------------

"Ma'am, I think there may be a problem."

"You're just figuring that out?" the woman snapped, never taking her eyes off her computer screen; hacking into CIA files required concentration. "I told you I wanted up-to-date information! The fact that they've identified my Lorrie crossed echelon hours ago!"

"Yes, ma'am, I know. I've been checking into some things, and that could be the least of your worries," the twenty-something Russian man said fearfully.

"Well, what is it?" Derevko snapped impatiently.

"The guy they've got watching Hecht's house, his name is Michael Vaughn." He waited to see f that meant anything to her; her head snapped around.

"Michael Vaughn? Damn. He's not going to let me anywhere near my girls." 

She turned back to her computer, obviously dismissing him. He took a step backward, but she spoke again. "Don't let me see you again."

"E-Excuse me?"

"Don't let me see you again. See Mr. Sark. He'll deal with you accordingly.

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So what do you think of this chapter? Anyway, here's that very important poll for ya. I'd appreciate it if everyone who reads this story would vote. The results of this will determine which direction I head in, and I have very interesting scenarios for each possible result…

1. Who do you want to die at the end of the story out of Michael, Danny, Taylor, or Jack?

2. Who should kill him?

3. Should the story have a happy ending with all loose ends tied up nicely, a tragic ending, or one with lots of loose strings hanging everywhere (leaving lots of possibilities for a sequel)?

Please vote, and reviews on the actual literary aspects of this chapter are greatly appreciated!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VOTE! DON'T MAKE ME CHOSE AN ENDING ALL ON MY OWN! THERE ARE SO MANY POSSIBILITIES!

(Hey, did you know this was 5 pages long as a word document in 10-point font? I didn't realize it was so long!)


	12. Teach Me Not To

Chapter 12: Teach Me Not To

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine :(

A/N: Responses to some of the reviews for Chapter 11...They were well deserving of responses…

Spana- If Danny leaves Syd, how can it be a _happy_ ending? Besides, may be I _want_ to kill Danny…mua-ha-ha-ha! 

Jean-gray18- I like you! I'm all for murdering everybody I can get away with murdering…And I would mention the "spice" one of my friends suggested I have in the story, but this is supposed to be PG…

Nicole- I was thinking of heading that way. If fact, that's exactly where I might take this. I'm working on getting Danny and Taylor into trouble…But then it would have to be a tragic ending, and I like to wrap it up nice and neat. Who knows…

Heidi- Thanks! My aim was to make Taylor unlikable, and that's a big compliment for you to tell me you just don't like him! lol

darrel doom vomit- Wouldn't that be just the perfect way to implement him in Syd's life? Hehehe…

English- Of _course_ I can't kill him! I just wanted to see if anyone would really want me to…I'm S/V shippie all the way! (The "spice" mentioned above refers to S/V, by the way…)

YoungStarsOwner- Another vote for Taylor? Great! I didn't know I'd made him _that_ unlikable! Thanks!

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"Hello?" Sydney said, snatching up the ringing phone. For some reason, the sound bothered her.

"Sydney, don't react. I know that agent is with you. Please, just listen. I want to talk to you in person."

Sydney remained quiet for a long time.

"Sydney?" Irina Derevko finally said quietly.

"When?" Sydney said, carefully regulating her voice as she was well aware that Michael lurked somewhere, listening, wherever he'd last hidden himself. He'd made himself scarce ever since they'd agreed to just be on the same side, which in turn made her nervous.

"I can't say now. I'm not sure who's listening. Please, Sydney, don't tell anyone you spoke to me again."

Something about the way the woman phrased her request, or may be it was just the hum of the dial tone in her ear, snapped Sydney out of the haze her mind had slipped into.

"Damn you," she mouthed, afraid Michael might be listening. She wasn't sure what, if anything, she was going to do about her mother's call, and she didn't want Michael showing up until she did.

Then an image of Lorrie slipped into her mind. Lorrie, smiling her sweet, innocent smile. She was still so innocent, really, despite the how tough things had been for her recently. Too innocent. So Sydney resolutely went to hunt down the elusive Michael to tell him about her mother's call.

*************************************************************************************

The phone call came around 6:45, and Lorrie was still upset by finding her father home waiting for her. He yelled for her to answer it, that he was busy. 

"Fine," she shouted sharply, for her temper certainly matched that of her father. "Hello?" she snapped into the receiver.

"Lorrie." A pause. "Do you know me?"

Lorrie was scared, excited, and confused all at once. In the silence that followed, anger and utter terror also entered into the equation.

"Lorrie?"

Tears filled Lorrie's eyes, but she kept that from reflecting in her voice.

"You shouldn't have done this," she said, her voice eerily quiet, because she was afraid of her father overhearing her end of the conversation.

"But Lorrie, I want to talk to you. You already know about me, don't you?" she asked sadly.

"Damn right I do," Lorrie answered, her voice contrasting greatly with her emotions. Her tone, as well as her words, must have shocked her caller.

"Lorrie, I wish you wouldn't say that. A girl your age shouldn't use such language."

"Then why didn't you stick around and teach me not to?" Lorrie spit hatefully, with such force behind the words that she surprised herself.

"I couldn't. tell me, do you know about Sydney?"

Lorrie opened her mouth to say yes, but instead she said innocently, "My teacher?"

A relieved sigh reached her ears.

"I want to talk to you in person sometime, Lorrie."

Lorrie forced herself to be angry as she hung up the loudly humming phone. If she wasn't mad, she'd fall apart. She was scared. Terrified. She fled to her room as fast as she could.

"Who was it?" Taylor Miller called as she passed by his office."

"Nobody," Lorrie snapped.

*************************************************************************************

When Sydney found Michael, she quickly told him about her mother's call. 

"And the school board won't let me off tomorrow. I have to go in," Sydney added.

Michael strongly suggested she call in sick, but she remained adamant. She'd learned that when he got irritated, as he was, it was simpler not to give up her position.

"I have to. What harm will it do, anyway?" Sydney asked as she left to check on Jaime, giving him no opportunity to argue.

*************************************************************************************

Lorrie was still scared. Hell, she was terrified. The woman had _murdered_ someone, and now she wanted to see her! But she knew she couldn't show it. So, under her father's annoyingly watchful eye, she climbed boldly onto the school bus the morning after her mother's call, when all she really wanted to do was cower in her room. Or talk to Sydney.

She stared out of the bus window the entire ride, afraid that she'd see her mother wherever she turned.

Once in the school building, Lorrie forced herself to appear calm; if her mother was watching, a frazzled daughter would seem much easier to deal with than a calm one. She strolled down the halls, took her time at her locker, then walked toward Sydney's classroom. After checking that she was alone, Lorrie ducked into what had become her refuge and shut the door.

Then, and only then, did Lorrie let the fear show in her eyes, let her hands tremble with nervousness, let her legs carry her to be comforted.

Sydney was shocked to see Lorrie fall apart as she entered the room, and feared that their mother really had done what Sydney had prayed she wouldn't do: she'd contacted Lorrie. And Lorrie was so shaken that she just shook as the tears fell, never making a sound.

"Come on, Lorrie, calm down, you've got to tell me what happened," Sydney said finally.

"Mom…" Lorrie sniffed pitifully.

"She called you?"

Lorrie moved away and nodded.

"She called, and Dad yelled for me to answer the phone," she said flatly.

Sydney struggled to contain the panic rising in her throat and asked calmly, "What exactly did she ask you? Did you tell her anything?"

The anger sharpened Lorrie's eyes, and she subconsciously balled her hands into fists.

"I told her she was damn right I knew about her," Lorrie snapped, daring Sydney to correct her. When Sydney only looked mildly surprised, she continued, feeling guilty about snapping at Sydney when she was only trying to help. "She asked if I knew about you, and I played dumb. It just seemed like she didn't need to know everything that _we_ know. Was I right?" she asked, returning to her timid demeanor.

"Yes," Sydney said encouragingly. "Did you tell her anything else? Anything she might could use?"

"She said…she said she wanted to talk to me again." The conversation was blurry in her mind now; she wasn't sure.

Sydney nodded. "Okay. I'm going to call Michael and find out what he wants us to do." Lorrie didn't look ready to be left alone; her eyes pleaded for Sydney to stay. "Are you coming?" Sydney added.

Lorrie nodded.

Sydney chose to use the phone in the teacher's lounge, and thankfully there was no one in there to hear her harried conversation.

When the phone was answered with an all business "hello" that would convince anyone trying to reach the Hechts that they'd gotten the wrong number, all Sydney said was, "She called Lorrie last night."

"God. What did Lorrie Blow?" Michael moaned.

"It could have been worse," Sydney said defensively. "Only that she knows about her mother. The woman doesn't know she understands our connection."

"Get away from the school. Come home, and I'll take you to the safe house," Michael pleaded.

"We're already here. If we suddenly leave now it'll tip someone off." She lowered her voice, conscious of Lorrie's ears. "Isn't it likely she's watching us?"

"It's possible," Michael moaned.

"Then what do you want us to do this afternoon? We'll leave then."

Michael sighed and put his hand to his head, where he could feel the beginnings of a headache.

"Come straight home. Tell Lorrie that as soon as she gets home, she's to get her bag and get over here. If her father is there again she'll have to sneak out. I'll talk to you when you get here."

With that, Michael hung up the phone and continued to rub his forehead.

*************************************************************************************

By the end of the day, Sydney and Lorrie were both wound up so tight that they felt ready to jump down the throat of the first thing that moved. Lorrie, somehow, managed to maintain her composure almost as well as her half-sister, and nobody could tell anything was amiss.

It would have been comical to se her jumping at every little noise, constantly looking over her shoulder, and scanning crowds for the feared face if she wasn't genuinely terrified.

Lorrie was only further agitated by finding her father waiting for her. Not only did his presence annoy her, but he also complicated her escape, which in itself scared her spitless.

She hadn't really expected him to continue meeting her. Thinking quickly, Lorrie stormed up into her room, slamming the door. For show, she continued to slam things around for several minutes. Then she fell silent and waited for the tell tale click that would inform her that her father had shut himself in his office. As soon as she heard it, she slid her duffle bag out from under her bed and slipped out the back door. As soon as she heard the almost silent sound of the door shutting, she breathed easier; the hardest part was over.

"Lorrie," a voice whispered behind her.

Lorrie screamed, but the sound was diminished to a sharp squeak as a strong hand clasped over her mouth and pulled her into the bushes lining the brink wall of the house, dragging her duffle bag with her.

*************************************************************************************

"Did you hear something?" Sydney asked anxiously. 

Michael looked up at her from his saet on the couch while she paused in her pacing.

"No. And I wish you'd stop pacing, or at least be still," he added.

"I can't help worrying. I'm going to see what that was," Sydney said restlessly.

"I wish you wouldn't," Michael sighed, standing up and following her as she disappeared from the room. He felt strange about something, but he couldn't quite place it.

His anxiety seeming to grow with every step, Michael moved toward the door. Mere instinct forced him to stay out of view from the windows.

A scream pierced the air.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Argh! What's going on? Hehehe…

I love cliff hangers, don't you?

Let me know what you think…More votes as to who should die won't hurt, either!


	13. Special Connection

Chapter 13: Special Connection

Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, nor do I want it. Unlike JJ Abrams, I fear for my life!

A/N: Thanks to my loyal readers that have made it this far!

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Sydney stepped out of her back door, fully expecting to find a dog or some other small animal around to have made the noise she'd heard. She chided herself for allowing her heart to beat harder and faster, and felt again that someone was watching her.

Suddenly something moved in the tall shrub to her right. She turned her head, already knowing instinctively what she'd see.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Sydney opened her mouth to scream. Derevko opened lunged toward her, dragging Lorrie, who'd been gagged. Sydney's scream turned into a gasp. Derevko came within inches of grabbing Sydney's arm, but Lorrie jerked against her in the opposite direction. Sydney took a step backwards, raising her arms as if to ward off some evil, and let out a shriek. Derevko kicked Lorrie's legs out from under her and she hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Without Lorrie hindering her, it took Derevko all of two seconds to grab Sydney and gag her.

Sydney and Lorrie must have both experienced hysteria, or may be they simply blocked it out, because they didn't remember how they reached the new silver sedan with no door handles on the inside of the back doors. Some sounds filtered into Sydney's mind; Lorrie's muffled crying, her own shrieks that seemed to choke her.

The next thing Sydney knew, she was in the car, and Michael was barreling toward them. Her first instinct was to mouth a plea, but the gag effectively nixed that idea. Forcing her foggy brain to sort through the few signs she'd learned from the special ed teacher at school, she frantically signed "Help" repeatedly, not knowing whether Michael would understand and knowing at he same time that it was him _job_ to protect her and he'd try to help even if he didn't understand her.

Somehow, Sydney wasn't truly scared until the car sped away and she lost sight of Michael, and Lorrie stared up at her in utter terror.

*************************************************************************************

Even while Michael reacted to Sydney's scream, an unfamiliar feeling had torn through him. His fear had become very real when he'd seem Sydney signing hysterically, and he was unable to translate any of it. Where did she learn that? he'd wondered ridiculously. He'd read the message in her eyes, though. She'd been begging him to get them out of the predicament she and Lorrie were in.

All this ran through his mind as he sat in the Hechts' living room, waiting for the investigative team to arrive.

Suddenly, he stood up resolutely and headed toward Lorrie's house. He knew Derevko had Lorrie; it was only fair to tell Taylor Miller _before_ a team came busting into his house. It wouldn't be right to let the man find Lorrie gone and get mad at her before he knew what had happened. He'd go tell Miller what had happened, nothing more. He'd leave the investigation to the team. The one he wasn't part of, because it had been his assignment to keep them from needing that very team…

Michael almost went to the Millers' back door, but decided to go around to the front. It just seemed more official that way.

Miller's expression was distracted, but his face hardened when he recognized Michael. 

"What?" Miller asked suspiciously.

"Is…Do you know where Lorrie is?" Michael asked, not sure why this was so hard when he'd been in much harder places before.

"Of course I know where my daughter is," Miller said in annoyance.

Michael shook his head. "No, you don't." He waited for that to register. "Mr. Miller, Lorrie has been kidnapped along with…another woman in this neighborhood."

Taylor Miller looked dangerously close to shutting the door in his face. Chiding himself for being stupid, Michael pulled out his CIA ID and showed it to Miller.

"Lorrie's been in her room since she came home from school," Miller said flatly, a dubious tone creeping into his voice.

Michael tried a new strategy. "As soon as you close this door, you're going to go check on your daughter. Let me come in and look in her room, just for a few minutes," Michael added when Miller looked ready to refuse outright.

Miller shrugged and stepped back, becoming anxious at his persistence. "If she's in there, you're gonna have to have a pretty good explanation, or I'm calling the cops," he warned, all of his confidence gone.

Michael followed as Miller meekly led him to Lorrie's closed door. Taylor knocked; there was no answer.

"Lorrie?" he said loudly, alarm evident. He knocked again. "Lorrie?!?"

Michael stepped forward and pushed the door open wide; the room, of course, sat empty. Taylor stared to bound into the room, but Michael held him back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Miller yelled.

"Evidence," Michael said calmly. "I have an investigative team en route, they'll need to search her room. You might disturb something."

Miller visibly calmed as the logic sank in.

"My little girl…do you know who has her? And who's the other woman?" He clearly had a lot of questions he wanted answers to, and Michael knew the answers would only lead to more questions.

"Mr. Miller, give me five minutes in your daughter's room and then I'll answer any of your questions that I can," Michael promised.

Miller nodded. "I'll be in the kitchen," he said, numbness taking over now.

Michael did a quick once over of the room, and found no trace of a suitcase or knapsack, or anything a kid might pack in. So Derevko caught her after she left the house, he thought.

He walked into the kitchen to see a very broken, forlorn man sitting hunched over the table, his elbows propped on the edge of the table and his forehead resting on his hands. 

Miller looked up expectantly when Michael walked in and sat down.

Seeing the look in the man's eyes, Michael thought he might have misjudged him; may be he wasn't a bad person, just having a hard time with his…wife problem. He launched straight into the question he needed answered before he could begin to explain much.

"What do you know about Lorrie's mother?"

Miller looked at him suspiciously again, but decided that he knew something, or he wouldn't know to ask. "That she's alive. That's it."

Michael nodded. "She faked her death once before. She had a six-year-old daughter at the time. The daughter's name was Sydney Bristow, now Hecht."

"Hecht? Lorrie's teacher's name is Hecht…" Miller said speculatively.

Michael nodded. "Lorrie's teacher is her half-sister."

Miller looked shocked for a moment but, "What does this have to do with my daughter right now? I want to know who had my daughter!" he insisted.

"Irina Derevko has her, and…"

"Who the hell is Irina Derevko?" Miller interrupted.

"Two of her aliases would be Laura Bristow and Angela Miller. And the other woman Derevko kidnapped is Sydney Hecht," Michael added, wishing to get this over with as soon as possible.

"What the…she kidnapped her daughters!?!" Miller exploded, seeming close to a breakdown and very red in the face.

Michael nodded. "It seems she's contacted Sydney several times recently, and Lorrie just last night." He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Almost 6:00. He wanted to head off Danny before he figured out something was wrong. "Mr. Miller, you'll have to talk to the investigators when they arrive if you have any more questions. The CIA is doing everything possible to find Lorrie."

Michael was headed out of the kitchen when Miller spoke.

"Hey…how did the CIA get involved in this?"

Michael froze. He'd be sorry later, but he turned and said, "The other guy Derevko was with was a CIA agent. You target an agent's family, the CIA gets involved. Quick."

Then he disappeared.

*************************************************************************************

Taylor Miller sat alone in his kitchen for a long time, not moving, not even thinking much. But when the pounding on his back door started, he knew it was time to face the truth. His daughter had been kidnapped.

He reluctantly opened his door to find six men, all wielding CIA identification, waiting to search Lorrie's room. In his haste to find something other than an image of them tearing Lorrie's room apart to focus his thoughts on, he noticed one man hung back and seemed to be inconspicuously observing him. The man's hair way completely gray, and his face was harsh, hardened probably by many years in the CIA. He stood tall, over six feet, possibly, and his presence would be intimidating to many people. His eyes were a cold stone color. 

"Is there a reason you're in here, and not in there with the rest of the team?" Taylor asked curiously.

The man stared at him, surprised.

"I have a special connection to this case. I'm not an investigator on the team," he finally answered.

As the information sank in, an idea occurred to Taylor. "Are you the woman's father?" Taylor looked hard at the man, who returned the stare.

"What do you know about he woman?"

"She's Sydney Hecht, a teacher. My former wife's child. Her father is CIA," Taylor listed carefully.

He stared at Taylor, evaluating him. Finally he nodded. "I don't know how you came to that conclusion, and it's none of your damn business, but I'm Jack Bristow." his cold eyes seemed to challenge Taylor to ask anything else; Taylor was never known for backing away from challenges.

"What's going to be done to help…our daughters?" Taylor asked, wanting to gauge Bristow's reaction to the connection of Lorrie and Sydney as well as wanting to hear the answer.

"It depends," Jack answered, too surprised that his attempt at intimidation had failed to not answer the man. "We'll follow up on what's found here." His expression softened almost imperceptibly, and the mask dropped enough for the pain to show on his face. "We'll find them. Derevko left, that's one ting. She can't have my daughter." The old anger had awakened.

"Nor mine," Taylor added. "I want to help any way I can. Whatever it means." Taylor set his mouth in a grim line, fully prepared to risk everything for the daughter he realized he'd neglected fro four years.

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Ooooh, Jack and Taylor understand each other…that can only lead to trouble for poor Taylor…

Just so you know, with Lorrie's mother being criminal and everything, I just can't abide by making her dad a truly bad person. I hope everyone will look at it as this progresses as he was just having a bad time of it, and he really loves Lorrie…if I don't get that message across, let me know…I'll fix something!


	14. Part of Said Team

Chapter 14: Part of Said Team

Disclaimer: I'm not JJ Abrams, or ABC…therefore Alias isn't mine.

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Michael had just finished explaining what had happened to Sydney, and Danny sat silently through the whole thing. His eyes had grown wider and wider until they were wild.

"We can't just sit here! Why are you just sitting there? We have to find her! Why aren't you finding her?!?" Danny yelled hysterically. "Who knows what her mother will do?!?"

Little did Danny know that referring to Derevko as her mother lowered the chances of Michael jumping to do anything. Or would have before…He just made a point of avoiding thinking of Derevko as Sydney and Lorrie's mother.

"We have nothing to go on. We don't know where to look. We can't waste manpower going in the wrong direction," Michael said coolly. For some reason, he'd come to dislike Danny. He did know that a man that had a family ought to spend more time with them than Danny did with his; he often worked until after 7, leaving Sydney alone with the baby.

"But she could be torturing Sydney right now!" Danny snapped.

"I know," Michael growled, gritting his teeth to keep from saying anything more. It was then he realized he'd broken his own rule: he'd come to like Sydney, to enjoy her company too much. She'd made many endeavors to be friends, despite his distance, and she'd finally broken through his defenses at some point.

Michael retreated outside into the chilly November evening, and quickly wished he was wearing a sweatshirt over the thin cotton one he wore. But he couldn't bring himself to go back inside with Danny, who was overly eager to go looking for his wife but had no clue where to start. Nor of the procedures they'd have to wade through before action could be taken.

The entire team, including Jack Bristow, was combing the Millers' backyard. He saw that one of them had unearthed Lorrie's duffle bag from behind a bush; Derevko must have grabbed her just as she was leaving. As he watched, Taylor Miller walked out and started talking to Jack. May be they understand each other, Michael thought. God knows no one else understood either of them. And he himself certainly didn't like Miller and more than he liked Jack.

Jack must have said something to send Miller back into the house, because presently Jack headed toward where Michael was standing. He'd thought he was hidden from the other agents' view, but Jack had been frighteningly observant even when Michael had joined the CIA.

"Agent Vaughn," Jack acknowledged shortly. "Has anyone briefed you on the progress?"

"No," Michael said just as shortly and not tacking on the usual "sir" at the end. He and Bristow were civil, at best. Now he had gone and let Bristow's daughter get kidnapped. He noticed the angry look in his superior's eyes. "Sir, Derevko could have gotten around the best agent. It might have been sooner if there'd been a recruit here."

Bristow's eyes flashed. "I placed you here trusting you were capable of recruit level work…"

"Now we both know this should _not_ have been considered recruit work, after all," Michael said shortly.

Jack ignored him. "Between the evidence found here and electronic trails found by analysts at the op center, I believe I can locate Derevko. Kendall, however, sees it differently. He won't approve a mission based on the current intel."

Michael took several seconds to catch the hidden message; Jack had always bee none to follow orders to the letter. He looked curiously at the man.

"Are you suggesting…" Michael trailed off.

"You screwed up, Agent Vaughn. I assumed you'd like the chance to rectify that mistake," Jack said calmly.

Michael looked at his warily. "What did you have in mind?"

"We round up whatever team we can and extract Sydney and Lorrie Miller ourselves," Jack said quietly, careful of the team overhearing. "I believe Taylor Miller could be a valuable part of said team. He's had the most recent contact with Derevko."

Michael was surprised that Jack was waiting for his reaction, as though that alone could change his mind.

Michael just nodded. "Personally, I think Daniel Hecht could be helpful. He's so anxious to help that he'll only get in our way if we try to keep him out of anything, anyway. He'll do whatever you want at this stage," he suggested. "Unfortunately, that might be the only team you can employ to go against Kendall. Most of the agents are afraid of him."

It was Jack's turn to nod gravely. "I know. Can I count you in? I should acknowledge that you don't have to do this, as it is entirely outside the agency."

Michael stopped to think of how sweet Sydney's smile was when she wasn't mad, and how cute her baby was, and how much Lorrie seemed to look to Sydney for support…and how cute _she_ was when she was mad…

"I'm in," he said before turning and going back inside quickly; thinking about Jaime had reminded him that the poor kid was still alone in his room where Sydney had left him for a nap just before she'd been kidnapped, hoping he'd sleep right through their trip to the safe house.

Inside, Michael ignored Danny, who sat brooding in the kitchen, and went straight into Jaime's room. The baby sat up in his crib, whimpering softly, as though he'd been crying but was now too tired to do anything more. When he saw Michael, though, he started crying loudly and waving his tiny fists in the air.

Awkward and afraid of dropping the squirming baby, Michael picked him up. His face, if anyone had seem it, was a mixture of confusion and fear. Jaime cried harder.

"Uh, hold on, little guy," Michael said, trying to mimic Sydney's way of talking to him. "What's wrong?" 

He ran through the list of possibilities. "Are you cold? No, it's plenty warm in here. "You wet?" He made a face. "I guess I'm going to have to change you, huh? I bet you're hungry too."

Michael made quite a sight, wrestling Jaime on the changing table, then holding him there with one hand and rummaging for diapers and wipes with the other.

"I'm not good at this, buddy, you've got to be still!" Michael said as Jaime almost rolled off the table again. 

Jaime laughed and continued to wiggle around.

Michael stopped searching for diapers and smiled. "You could put anyone in a good mood, couldn't you?" he asked in awe.

Jaime gurgled his consent. Michael smiled broader and continued about his task. Once Jaime was sloppily changed and comfortable, Michael carried him into the freshly deserted kitchen. It occurred to him to wonder if Danny had deliberately left to avoid his kid.

He found the thought made him more angry than it should have; it was way too personal. The kid had stolen his way into the hard agent's heart.

Michael took a full five minutes to become confident that he'd strapped Jaime into his high chair, and by then he's started whimpering again. 

"Come on, buddy, I'm trying!" Michael complained, laughing as he went through cabinets looking for either oatmeal or Cheerios to keep Jaime busy until he could feed him. Or may be he'd find jars of baby food. Hell, what was he doing with this kid? He'd be lucky if he didn't leave Jaime with any permanent damage.

He answered his question under his breath a few seconds later. "Because his father is ignoring him, that's what."

Finally, he opened a cabinet to find several jars of baby food on the top shelf. He grabbed a jar of orange goop and dug a spoon out of the dishwasher.

After setting the unopened jar on the tray of Jaime's high chair, Michael paused and looked at the full-sized spoon in his hand. Then he looked at Jaime. Then he looked back at the spoon. Then he grinned.

"This can't be right, buddy. Don't you have nay of those little spoons?" he asked as he rifled through some drawers. "Ah-ha!" Triumphantly, he held up the white-rubber tipped spoon.

Most likely, more food got on the high chair, the floor, and Michael then Jaime actually ate, and that wasn't counting what got on Jaime. He seemed to sense the naïveté of Michael right away, and delighted in first knocking the open jar off of the tray onto the floor and Michael's shirt, then repeatedly knocking the spoon from Michael's hand, sending it everywhere. Michael couldn't figure out exactly how the orange blob wound up in his hair.

Jaime giggled and clapped the whole time, and while Michael tried to return the kitchen to its original state he wondered how Danny could not hear his son and be irresistibly drawn to his happy laughter. The thought made Michael angry.

By the time Michael had finished cleaning up the mess, Jaime's eyelids had begun to droop. He took advantage of the baby's inactive state to attempt to balance his on his hip the way he'd seen Sydney do, but soon found it impossible, so he sort of draped Jaime over his shoulder, where he seemed quite comfortable and soon fell asleep.

Smiling, Michael carried the baby into the nursery. Somehow, he managed to change him into warm pajamas. Then he laid him in the crib, and tucked a blanket around his tiny body.

When Michael found Danny before he left, having been clearly dismissed by Jack Bristow earlier that day, he told him he'd put Jaime to bed, and all Danny said was ,"Oh, thanks."

"One of the agents is planning to extract your wife from where she's being held," Michael added. "You want to be part of the team that goes in?"

Danny was suddenly paying attention.

  
"Yes! When?"

"I'll be in touch," Michael said vaguely, Danny's disinterest in his child becoming more evident to him.

Michael made sure to find Jack before he left the area.

"You know where to find me. And Hecht's in for his wife's extraction," he added.

"I'll be in touch by tomorrow," Jack promised tonelessly. "And Miller is more than willing to go along with whatever we do."

On that note, Michael went home to his empty apartment. His _silent_ apartment. In the little while he'd been in Sydney's house, he'd become used to having her and Jaime around, and, he had to admit, he'd enjoyed taking care of Jaime, even though his father should have been doing that.

The hell with _getting_ too attached. He _was_ too attached.

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Aw, how sweet! I've always loved the thought of seeing big, tough Agent Vaughn handling a baby. Men are always so afraid of babies, anyway, and I'm sure Vaughn hasn't had much opportunity in his line of work to be around kids. You should see my version of him with older kids…meaning a thirteen-year-old. (See "Among The Missing," if you haven't already! I think the interaction between Laura and Brandon and Vaughn is pretty funny…especially when she starts testing him! And Weiss is no better than Vaughn…Such easy targets!)


	15. Shoot Yourself in the Foot

Chapter 15: Shoot Yourself in the Foot

Disclaimer: Alias isn't, nor was it ever, mine. This particular brilliant creation is not mine.

A/N: Yes, this title does have some significance. It's not just funny.

Spana: Yeah! That's the spirit!

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Michael was suddenly roused from a fitful sleep. For once, he was thankful to have his sleep interrupted, however it came about, because it also disrupted the very disturbing dream involving Sydney Hecht. Even though the dream had been enjoyable…

Another sharp ring of the telephone chased away the lingering wisps of the dream, dragging him back to reality. Michael glanced at the clock as he reached for the phone. Three AM.

"Vaughn," he said, fighting to keep sleep from his voice and succeeding for the most part.

"Bristow. Be at Miller's in two hours. My contacts will be there by 5:30."

Jack hung up before Michael could respond.

"Great," Michael muttered, stumbling around his room in the vague light filtering form the bathroom, trying to find a pair of jeans to pull on. In the process, he slammed his foot into his dresser.

"Damn!" he growled, limping slightly for a few minutes. 

He ran his hand through his hair; yep, it was sticking up every way possible. He'd have to do something with it to look presentable, even _before_ dawn…Bristow was still a superior, after all.

By the time Michael was awake enough to get ready to his satisfaction, he was glad Jack had called him two hours early. Al this hour, the drive to Miller's house should take, at most, 15 minutes. And normally, half an hour would have been more than sufficient for him to get ready. Being on constant alert all the time that he'd stayed at the Hechts', plus his virtually sleepless night, had left him more than a little groggy. After three cups of coffee, he started toward Miller's house at a speed far greater than he should have needed to.

He parked a full block away form the house, and noted Jack's car almost a block the other side of Miller's house. He slipped around the house and almost ran into Danny, who was also sneaking around Miller's backyard in the dark and praying not to run full into a shrub, or trip over some unknown tree stump.

"Where's the kid?" Michael asked quietly as he came up beside Danny. "You leave him alone?" He tried to sound disinterested.

"He'll sleep. Sydney never wakes him up until seven," Danny said, shrugging.

"He never wakes up early?"

"If he does, Sydney takes care of it. She doesn't wake me up."

"Great," Michael muttered as he knocked lightly on the door.

Danny gave him a look that, even in the dark, clearly showed his irritation.

Jack answered the door and led them silently into the kitchen, where the only light was on. Danny wondered how the other two men kept from ramming into something in the dark hall.

"My contacts, tow men who've done some freelance work for years, will be here soon," Jack said, quickly taking control of his makeshift taskforce. "All of you need to understand what Sydney and Lorrie's extraction is going to entail, leaving you the opportunity to back out while you still can." 

Jack managed to make it clear that he was addressing himself to Danny and Taylor, _not_ Michael, the trained agent that already knew what to expect. Only fair, Michael thought. 

"My contacts will supply us with weapons, electronic lock picks in case on a security system, a com system. Everything necessary to break into the facility undetected. I have confirmed that they are indeed at the facility in question," he added, giving Michael a look that clearly suggested he not inquire as to his sources. Michael decided he didn't really want to know anyway; he was already going against all of his common sense, not to mention the entire CIA. The less he knew, the better.

Jack continued to explain basics, and Michael continued to wonder if there was a good reason he was there. But as he watched the blank looks that crossed the two men's faces, he decided that Jack wanted him, as the only other agent around, to know exactly what they were dealing with.

Finally, about five minutes before jack's contacts were due to arrive, Michael stopped him.

"Are you sure you can trust your sources?" he asked, deliberately not asking about them specifically.

Jack nodded. "They're reliable."

"What about these contacts? Should you have brought them here? It would have been safer to set up a meeting in a slightly more neutral location."

Jack stared at him a moment.

"One of my guys is an ex-cop, currently in place in the Russian Mafia and feeding information to the UN about their actions. The other is currently CIA, works in weapons, and can provide us with what we need in that area." He looked hard at Michael. "He may well be someone you have, or will eventually, run into in the Op Center."

Michael nodded, just as there was a soft knock on the back door. Jack grimaced and looked untrustingly ar Taylor and Danny, both of wore looks similar to that of an eager, playful puppy.

"You two just don't say anything, okay?" Jack snapped. "This guy may not leave weapons here if he's afraid you'll shoot yourself in the foot."

"Either of you ever _handle_ a firearm?" Michael asked quietly as jack stalked out.

Danny shook his head, and Taylor said, "I had a BB gun when I was a kid."

"Great," Michael muttered, beginning to feel he should have a death wish.

*************************************************************************************

A huge warehouse, large crates everywhere. Knockout gas or something, Sydney thought as her mind began to clear. She'd read about how hard it was to think after being hit with something like that, but reading was nothing compared to living it.

Her feet were shackled together and chained to a thick metal ring attached to the concrete floor, but her hands were loose, and the chain was pretty long.

Lorrie lay beside her on the cold floor, and as Sydney's vision cleared she saw that there was an ugly bruise forming under Lorrie's left eye. Other than that, she looked okay. As Sydney shifted, she realized her shoulder was stiff, and she wondered how long they'd been wherever they were, if her arm had had time to become painfully stiff.

Lorrie stirred before she had long to wonder about that, and she moved over to be in Lorrie's line of sight.

"Lorrie?" she called softly, strangely wary of being heard. "Open your eyes and say something, Lorrie."

Lorrie opened her eyes, blinked hard, and winced. Her hand moved to touch her face.

Sydney gently pulled her hand away. "You're gonna have a nice shiner there," she said ,attempting to lighten the situation.

Lorrie wasn't deterred for even a second. She sat up and looked around with frenzied eyes. "Where are we?" she asked in terror.

Sydney shook her head. "I don't know. But we have to stay calm, okay?"

"Okay," Lorrie said shakily, blinking back tears and sliding over closer to Sydney. She glanced fearfully at her feet as the chain clinked. "I'm scared," she whispered, looking at the floor.

"I know. Me too," Sydney said, putting an arm around Lorrie and hoping her voice sounded a whole lot stronger than she felt.

For a while, they just talked. Just so they didn't have to think. They talked about friends, old and new, their extended families, even things as trivial as favorite foods and colors. Sydney began to talk about Michael and all the little battles they'd had.

"You know," Lorrie put in thoughtfully, "I don't think he hates you. It sounds like he just doesn't like people to know what he's thinking. You know, like he just acts that way to throw you off or something.

That hit Sydney pretty hard; if he didn't hate her--Lorrie's comment did make perfect sense--what _did_ he think? And if the cold man she'd been seeing wasn't the real Michael, but rather the friendly man that had peeked through occasionally, then what did she…

"Sydney. Lorrie. You're awake. Good." Irina Derevko had appeared from behind one of those crates, and for the split second before she was furious, she was actually grateful to Derevko for interrupting her thoughts. "I brought you some soup. I wasn't sure how those sedatives would effect you. If you want something else, I'll get it." The woman sounded like…well, like a mother. And timid, as though she wasn't sure what to say now.

"I want something else, all right," Sydney snapped. "What the…what are we doing here? And where are we?"

Irina shook her head. "I really only wanted to talk to you both. It was dangerous for me, and you put up such a struggle…I had no choice." Derevko placed the tray with two bowls of soup in front of Sydney, and smiled sadly. "You've both grown up wonderfully."

Lorrie had been too shocked to react at first, but suddenly a ragged sob escaped her. 

"No! Mama, no! Please, no!" she sobbed hysterically.

Sydney hugged her, realizing that, despite all that had happened, Lorrie had still been clinging to the hope that everything had been a mistake. Derevko made a move as if to comfort Lorrie, and Sydney shot to her feet between her and Lorrie. Despite the fact that her head was spinning, she spit out, "Don't you even! Leave her alone! This is _your_ fault!"

Derevko looked shocked, and took a step backward as though afraid Sydney would hit her, while Sydney stooped down to calm Lorrie.

"Lorrie…" Derevko said uncertainly. "Sydney, I…I only wanted to tell you both, I'm sorry. I wish I could have stayed with you. But it was dangerous, for me and for you." She shook her head when she realized neither of them was listening to her. Carefully, she got down on her knees next to them and put one hand on Lorrie's shoulder and the other on Sydney's. "I'm sorry," she said simply; the look on Lorrie's face cut through her like a knife. "I'll get you some ice for your eye, Lorrie," she added after an awkward moment of silence.

Lorrie visibly regained her composure as soon as Derevko disappeared.

"I'm sorry, Sydney," she said quietly. "I'm scared. I can't…I can't be around her. I'm not really scared of _her_ but…I want to go home."

"I know. I don't know what's going to happen from here, but I think we'll be okay. Just hang in, and we'll be okay." Sydney sat with her arm around Lorrie, and Lorrie rested her head against her shoulder.

Irina witnessed the scene from between two crates, where she was sure they couldn't seen her. She'd screwed up a lot back then. Leaving Sydney and jack felt like the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Getting involved with Taylor Miller had been a mistake from the beginning, too. Lorrie had been an accident, a fluke. That didn't mean she loved her any less, and it had been just as hard to leave her when the time had come. She'd screwed up, and now she couldn't go back, couldn't even safely continue contacting them. It was far too likely that someone would discover their link, and she would be baited all too easily if anyone threatened Sydney or Lorrie.

*************************************************************************************

Jack repeated the address again. "It's a CIA owned warehouse, never used anymore. Noon tomorrow. No excuses. We have to act on this before it's invalidated."

Michael nodded, but the other two looked shocked.

"We can't wait that long!" Taylor snapped. "Lorrie…and Sydney might not still be…that might be too late!"

"Yeah!" Danny echoed.

"Noon tomorrow," Jack said simply, closing the door behind himself.

Michael stood and noted it was bordering on seven o'clock.

"Hey, Danny, shouldn't you go check on your kid?" Michael asked carefully.

Danny shrugged. "He's probably still asleep."

"It seems like your wife takes care of him most of the time," Michael continued after a moment. "You know, officially, I'm still assigned to keep an eye on your house. The order hasn't been withdrawn."

"You weren't there last night."

"Bristow covered," he lied. He wanted Danny to think the CIA still believed the house needed to be watched. "It won't hurt to stick around in case there's a call for ransom. I can help you out with the kid. This has all got to be hard; I'd like to help out a little while I can." He was lying outright now; he no more wanted to help Danny than he wanted to throw himself off a bridge, but he felt strangely protective of Sydney's kid. He wanted the baby to be taken care of, even if not in good hands.

Danny eyed him warily, then decided that, if nothing else, it was a way to keep Jaime out of his hair for a little while.

"That's be great. I don't' really want to leave him at the day care after all of this," Danny said. Lying through his teeth, Michael thought.

"I'd be glad to keep him. If Derevko knows there's any agents around, she's less likely to try anything."

Taylor sat silently through the exchange, watching the other two. He saw the friendly smiles. And the fight in their eyes. And he sensed that the two men were rivaling each other, even though one of them was unwilling to admit he was fighting for anything.

_____________________________________________________________________________________


	16. Such a Mess of Things

Chapter 16: Such a Mess of Things

Disclaimer: This _particular _piece of brilliance isn't mine.

A/N: We're getting close to the end now! Hold on tight, it's going to be a wild ride! _____________________________________________________________________________________

"I know there have been rumors of an intrusion of this facility," Irina Derevko said to the room of guards she'd posted around everything. "I'm not sure if the rumors are credible or not," she lied, "but we're going to react as if they are. Bear in mind that these potential intruders are not to be harmed. Tranquilizers will be issued in the case of an emergency. If at all possible, these intruders are to be left alone. If any casualties occur among them, it will cost you greatly."

Every man in that room murmured their consent; this woman had proven time and time again that she'd follow through on her threats. It certainly helped her edge that she spoke English, a second, or third, language to most of the men there.

"I also want to be sure that it's clear that no one is to have _any_ contact whatsoever with the prisoners. Let me catch you even looking at them and I'll make sure you find it difficult to do so ever again." She paused for emphasis. "Mr. Sark, please see to it that all the weapons are distributed properly."

Derevko slipped away to see her daughters while everyone else was occupied. Walking up to the door of the storage room, she pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. She settled on the floor silently in front of them after weaving through a maze of crates.

Sydney said softly, a sad tone in her voice, "I wish you'd just leave us alone." 

Lorrie just stared at her with big, scared eyes.

Their reactions hurt her more than they could ever have known.

"I feel like I owe you both something before you're gone," she said softly, shaking her head. "You won't be here much longer. To be truthful, the one thing I want is to go back and do everything over, and not make such a mess of things. I want you to know, I'm sorry. And, that I love you. Sydney, I loved your father, too, but it would have been dangerous for him if I'd stayed. I was in too deep. Lorrie, I loved your father, but, as I'm sure he's made sure you know, we never saw eye to eye on anything. I stayed as long as I did because you needed me. I couldn't risk staying any longer, though." She looked them both in the eye. "I'm not sure if I'll see you again, so I'll tell you good-bye now." Sydney was shocked to see her mother's eyes were moist. "I'm taking off the shackles, too. They weren't my idea. Please don't make a bunch of noise and alert anyone. It might be best if you stayed back here, away from the door." Derevko stood and turned to face them. "I love you," she said softly, then turned and walked out before they could see the tear slip down her face.

Outside, Sark was waiting for her. She blinked and tried to wipe at her eyes without him seeing her.

"I asked for you to wait for me in the meeting room," she complained sharply.

Sark shrugged. "So…What?" he asked softly, weary of anyone else hearing. "We just let them in? We really aren't doing anything?"

Derevko nodded. "We'll have plenty of time to get out. All Jack and Taylor want is Lorrie and Sydney. They'll come after me second."

Sark grinned a weasel-ish grin. "You really don't want to give them up, do you?"

Irina made a conscious effort to appear in control. "I suggest you go make sure the head guards are clear on the protocol for this situation and stay the hell out of my business," she snapped menacingly.

*************************************************************************************

Five grueling hours of planning. A four hour flight to wherever the hell they were, on which Taylor and Danny had managed to sleep but Michael and Jack were too wired. _And now, _Michael thought,_ with an hour before we move in, we _sit_ and _wait_._ And after the extraction, they'd have a four hour flight back, then he and Jack would have a two or three hour debrief during which they'd have to justify their rash, insubordinate act. And that was assuming something didn't go horribly wrong, or one of the stupid civilians didn't get themselves killed. God, they were stupid. He and Jack could probably do a better job without them. 

He stole a quick glance at Jack; yep, he was reflecting on their stupidity, too.

*************************************************************************************

Lorrie was crying again. Her back was to Sydney, but she still knew Lorrie was crying. Not sobbing; they were both too tired for that. Neither of them had slept in three days. Sydney was exhausted, but being on constant alert didn't allow for sleep. Even if she could relax her body enough to sleep, her mind wouldn't rest. She knew Lorrie had to feel about the same, and the whole ordeal was clearly too much for her emotionally.

Knowing Lorrie didn't want her to know she was crying, Sydney occupied her mind with the questions that were flying around in her head like a blizzard. _Why did our mother unchain us and suggest we won't be here much longer?_ She blinked and shook her head, allowing that question to remain unanswered; the potential answers were too frightening. Any questions concerning Derevko were better left unanswered for the time. So…_Is Jaime okay?_

"Of course," she said softly. "Danny can take care of him." She realized that this was where a mental image of Danny playing with Jaime, or at least holding him, should show up, but none came. She thought harder. The last time she remembered Danny taking on Jaime was…almost five months ago, when she'd come down with the flu. And when she'd been able to get up to take care of him, he'd had diaper rash.

She quickly shut down that line of thought. If she died, she didn't want to do it thinking bad things of her husband, like that he'd neglected their baby…

But he had, hadn't he? And he rarely offered to take Jaime to daycare, and if he was already asleep when Danny got home, sometimes he seemed downright relieved.

She shook her head again. It was almost midnight, and the third night she hadn't slept at all. Three days of no sleep could make anyone think unfounded accusations about people.

"Sydney?" Lorrie said softly, her back still turned. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah. Not like I can sleep," she said softly.

"Are…do you wonder about people? I mean, like, your dad. Do you think he misses you?"

Sydney smiled a sad smile. "I think, in his own way, my dad loves me. Things were just bad for a while and we both let it go on too long. You dad loves you, too, Lorrie."

Lorrie turned around wearily. "Sometimes I wonder," she murmured.

Sydney put her arm around Lorrie. "I'm sure he does. Why don't you try to sleep a little while?" she added as she noted the exhaustion on Lorrie's face. "I'll be right here."

Lorrie shook her head. "I can't sleep."

"Just close your eyes for a few minutes, then. Relax a little. You need some sleep."

"You haven't slept either," Lorrie accused.

"It's different. I can go longer than you without sleep." Sydney looked into Lorrie's worried eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Lorrie sighed. "Okay. But just for a few minutes."

Within minutes, Lorrie was fast asleep.

*************************************************************************************

"Let's move."

Jack led the way into the building. They filed along the hall, guns drawn, until they came to two separate halls. Jack motioned to Michael, and they split up, Taylor following Jack and Danny following Michael.

Michael led. Danny followed. Most of the rooms on the hall they were on were small, and required only a quick glance to determine whether anyone was inside. Besides, they were unlocked. Finally they came to a door at the end of the hall.

A storage room," Michael muttered. "Search behind everything," he added to Danny.

They split up and started doing just that.

*************************************************************************************

Sydney sat behind the crate and tried not to burst into tears. She stifled scream after scream as the men got closer and closer…

__

I'm going to die…I promised Lorrie I'd protect her…who'll take care of Jaime?…I'm going to die…

"Michael!" she cried, her scream dying in her throat as her appeared in front of her.

"Sydney!"

She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. For a moment she could barely breathe, she was so relieved.

Danny appeared behind Michael, and his appearance broke the spell.

"Sydney!"

To Sydney's surprise, she couldn't muster up the same enthusiastic reply for him as she had for Michael. Instead, she stood and woke Lorrie.

"Mmm…huh?"

"Lorrie, come on. Look who's here," she said gleefully. 

She pulled Lorrie to her feet and Michael immediately started toward the door.

"Are you guys okay? Will you make it out okay?" Michael asked.

Lorrie nodded, and Sydney muttered, "We're more than ready to get the hell out of here."

Something in her tone made Michael turn to look at her.

"Then let's get out of here," he said to cover up his glance before Danny caught on.

He flipped on the microphone on the COM unit.

"Jack, I've got them. Meet back at the transport."

Danny dropped back to talk to Sydney and left Michael to lead them all out.

"Sydney, are you okay, honey? Did she…"

"I'm fine, Danny," Sydney broke in quickly. "I just need some sleep. I don't want to talk."

Danny looked shocked. "Sydney, I want to know what she did to you," Danny came very close to snapping at her. He grabbed her arm.

Sydney glanced at him, wondering how she'd never noticed how…pushy he was.

"Danny, I'm tired. I'm not talking about it right now. Lay off," Sydney said irritably, pulling her arm from his grasp.

They rounded a corner to find two men standing there. One ducked into a room, but the other stood his ground. Michael and Danny both drew guns, and Michael shouted at Danny to stay back; he didn't. The other man drew a gun. Michael fired. The other man fired. Seemingly in slow motion, Danny fell.

Michael flipped on the COM again.

"Jack, man down! Get to the van and meet me at extraction point two!"

Sydney was already kneeling by Danny, and Lorrie stood behind her looking horrified. Michael stooped down next to Sydney.

"Damn!" Danny muttered hoarsely.

"It'll hurt like hell, but it didn't do much damage," Michael said firmly. "Get up, we'll get you to the closest hospital."

"Are you crazy?!?" Danny growled.

"Jack, cancel that. We'll be at the van in ten minutes, tops," Michael said in annoyance. Another reason civilians didn't belong in the field: agents had been trained to show pain only if it was life threatening, basically. A shoulder shot wouldn't have even made most agents blink.

"Sure?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. Civilians," he muttered before turning off the COM again. He hauled Danny off of the floor and half dragged him toward the door, despite Danny's avid protests.

*************************************************************************************

"Taylor, let's get out of here as quick as we can. It's too quiet; I'm afraid someone's waiting for us," Jack muttered.

They slinked along the hall, Taylor glancing curiously into each room they passed. After one room, he froze and stepped backward.

"Holy shit!" Taylor yelled, causing Jack to turn around. Before Jack could even react, Taylor charged into the room, gun first.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Don't worry, I'm not letting Danny get off _that_ easy! Nor Taylor…although I'm trying to make him look better now. You'll have to excuse his language…even if you don't now, you will in the next chapter…hehehe!


	17. I Got Shot

Chapter 17: I Got Shot

Disclaimer: My ideas don't bring in millions of dollars a year…

A/N: This will be the last chapter I post for at least 10 days, because I'm going away for Christmas and I won't…*sob*…have access to a computer!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Damn it!" Jack growled.

"Bitch!" he heard Taylor scream.

Jack reached the doorway with barely enough time to take in the scene before disaster struck. Irina standing motionless, her eyes wide and scared, making no move to reach the gun Jack knew she must have. Taylor pointing his gun at her shakily. The young Russian man standing off to the side, out of Taylor's view. Then suddenly a gun erupted, and Taylor fell to the floor, shock registering on his face. The Russian man held his gun straight out; a lucky shot.

Irina turned slowly to look at he shooter. He seemed frozen in fear. "Get out of here!" she shrieked suddenly, hysteria rising in her voice.

The man not only left, but ran. His departure released Jack and Irina from the spell they were under. They both moved simultaneously to kneel beside Taylor.

"Damn idiot," Jack muttered under his breath. He'd holstered his gun and noticed that Irina still had made no more to even suggest she _had _the weapon he knew she did.

Irina reached for Taylor's wrist. Her face fell, and she slowly released his arm. "He's dead, Jack," she said simply, and not at all in the detached manner he'd expected.

Jack, refusing to believe her, pressed his fingers to Taylor's neck. No pulse.

"Go, Jack. Just go. I'll…" Her voice faltered for just a second. "I'll send him somewhere and let you know." When he just stared at her, she added, "The CIA never had to know how he died." She closed her eyes for a moment, showing no fear of him. "If you and Vaughn can keep Danny out of it all."

Finally Jack nodded. "I'll be waiting," he said simply.

"I promise, I'll let you know," she said softly.

Jack jogged all the way to the van and climbed in the back, knowing Michael would be in the drive's seat. He was pulling away even as Jack pulled the door closed.

Danny gave him a look and asked, "Where's Taylor?"

Where Lorrie's eyes had been weary and relaxed, they were quickly alert and anxious.

"My dad? What happened?!?" she cried.

"Lorrie, may be you should wait…" Sydney began, throwing Danny a disgusted look.

"No! What happened?!?" she cried again, looking at Jack.

"He…ho got shot, Lorrie," he said with surprising gentleness. "He's dead."

Sydney gasped, Lorrie gave an odd little cry and buried her face in her hands, Michael tighten his grip on the steering wheel until he was in danger of breaking it, and Danny looked anywhere but at the people in the back of the van.

Jack looked at Danny. He could see the bullet wound high in his left shoulder as clearly as he could see his lack of empathy for Lorrie.

Sydney gathered Lorrie in her arms. After several minutes, she asked, "Where's Jaime?"

When Danny didn't answer, Michael said, "The daycare. That woman--Kaitlyn?--agreed to keep him until we could get back."

Sydney nodded. "Danny, are you okay?"

"What the hell do you think? I got shot!" he snapped.

"But you're still alive!" Lorrie yelled sharply, spinning angrily to face him. "Don't you _dare _complain, because you're still alive!" she threatened.

Sydney put her arms around Lorrie and pulled her close. "You're going to be okay, Lorrie. You're going to be okay," she whispered.

Danny was irritated by his wife's siding with Lorrie and remained silent, much as an angry child might, all the way to the hospital. Everyone, whether they would admit it or not, enjoyed his silence.

"I'll take him in," Jack muttered. "Vaughn, you get in back so the van looks empty."

Jack practically dragged Danny out of the van, and Michael climbed in the back and pulled the door closed. In the sudden silence and without the whirring of the van's engine, Lorrie's sobs could be heard quite plainly. Instinctively, he settled in front of Lorrie and Sydney. He put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"It's hard at first, put you, uh, get used to it," he said gruffly, not sure how to phrase what he meant.

Lorrie fell silent and sat up to face him. Her control was held onto by a mere thread, and at first Michael wondered if he'd said something wrong. Then to his surprise, she gave him a quick hug.

"Thank you," she whispered, offering a small smile.

"Uh, no problem. I, uh, my dad got killed too, when I was a kid," he said awkwardly.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and thought that f it had been anyone but him she might have lost it again. Knowing his story--if only a piece of it--made that dreadful word bearable. "I know. That's why it means so much that you said that," Lorrie explained shakily, but determined to keep a very firm grip on her control. She _hated_ to cry.

She calmly leaned against the wall of the van, Sydney on one side and Michael in front of her. She surprised herself when she nearly giggled when both Sydney and Michael both went to put their arms around her shoulders at once, and he wound up putting his arm on top of hers. He jerked his arm away as though burnt, and she withdrew her arm and turned red. She chalked it up to a delayed shock or something. She leaned her head back and soon fell asleep.

Sydney, very uncomfortable with Michael all of a sudden, also leaned back and closed her eyes. After a few moments, Michael thought she seemed asleep and allowed himself to move over nest to her, and he too closed his eyes, quite content with his current position.

When Jack opened the door some thirty minutes later to allow Danny, shoulder wrapped in white bandages, to climb in, he saw Sydney and Michael leaning against each other, fast asleep. It didn't anger him, as he thought it should have, to see the agent near his daughter, and he found he had to hide a smile. Deciding there was nothing wrong with letting Michael get a little sleep, he climbed into the front seat.

"We had to go a little out of our way to get here," he told Danny as he pulled out. "It'll be a good hour before we get to the airstrip."

Danny didn't comment. If he had taken anything for pain, Jack might have simply made an allowance for the man's attitude. But Danny had angrily declined the doctor's offer of some pain pills.

Jack was willing to bet Sydney hadn't caught more than brief glimpses of this side of Danny. In her opinion, Jack had sulked all through her childhood, and he found it unlikely that she'd have remained married to a man who sulked like Danny did.

May be she'd gain something out of this ordeal; may be she'd see Danny for what he was before he turned her into a cold, apathetic person.

*************************************************************************************

Michael was awake, but not enough so that he was ready to open his eyes. He was sure Jack would make a very clear announcement when they got to the airstrip. And he was very comfortable where he was. Which was…against someone…Sydney! Oh, God, and Danny and Jack had to know it, too…

""We're pulling into the airport now," Jack said flatly a few minutes later. "Start waking them up."

Michael noted a tone of dislike that he'd never even heard Jack use on _him _before. As soon as he heard Danny start crooning to Sydney, "Wake up, honey. We're at the airport," Michael sat up and had the distinct urge to puke.

He watched as Sydney reluctantly sat up straighter and reached over to gently shake Lorrie's shoulder. Suddenly, Michael reached over and grabbed her wrist.

"Why don't we just let her sleep?" he said gently.

"But…" Sydney began.

"I'll carry her to the plane," Michael said. "She's fairly small; it'll be easy," he added when Sydney started to object.

"You'll probably wake her up," she warned.

"I'll be careful," he promised, smiling at her.

To his surprise, and pleasure, she smiled back.

"I know you will," she said softly, hoping her voice sounded more matter-of-fact to them than it did to her.

Apparently not; Danny gave her a suspicious look that stirred fear in her gut. And that scared her more than his expression.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked in an attempt to change her train of thought.

"Killing me. Damn doctor didn't even give me anything for pain," he muttered.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but decided that confronting Danny might not be a good thing for Sydney. He'd speak to her privately about Danny's behavior.

"I'm sorry," Sydney said carefully. "Is it really that bad?"

"Damn it, Sydney, I got shot!" he roared. Lorrie woke with a cry of surprise, and Michael subtly shook his head at her. "Of course it really that bad!" Danny mocked her.

Sydney glanced at Michael fearfully, almost as if looking for help. "I…just meant that…I…Thank you for coming after me," she finally sputtered quietly.

"Yeah, this is what I get for running to your rescue," he growled.

For a second, Michael wondered if Danny was referring to something other than his injury, but quickly discarded the idea.

"I'm sorry," Sydney murmured again, clearly trying to placate him for a time.

Michael vowed to talk to her once on the plane. Until then, however, he made Lorrie his project. He stood and moved to sit next to her. She was staring tearfully at Sydney. She looked like she was about to say something, so he gently turned her to face him.

"We'll talk to her later," he whispered.

"She's…scared of him," Lorrie whispered back.

He nodded. "We'll talk to her."

She nodded, too, and turned her back to him. He saw her slip a hand up to wipe her eyes.

Michael felt sorry for her. Her life had been emotionally difficult, and just when she and her dad could have gotten past all that, he'd had to go and get himself killed. Jack hadn't said as much, but Derevko had been involved in whatever had happened, and that wouldn't help any when Lorrie found that out. Now, she was practically watching the marriage of the woman she'd come to look to for support crumble to the ground.

He shifted and put his arm around her. She looked up at him in surprise briefly, then seemed to accept the comforting gesture.

*************************************************************************************

How did they manage to corner her without her noticing? And _why?_

Sydney sat in one of the window seats on the jet that she figured her father's connection to the CIA had helped him secure, and her father, Michael, and Lorrie all stood blocking her only escape.

"Uh…is something wrong?" she asked carefully, noting their grim faces.

"Sydney, I'm not going to dance around the issue," Jack said quickly. "I…We think Danny is…off."

__

Sure sounds like dancing to me, Sydney thought.

"Off how?" she asked out loud.

"He strikes me as someone with potentially violent tendencies," Michael said before Jack could stop him. "I've had some training in profiling," he added, as much for Jack's benefit as for Sydney's.

"Is he always so touchy, Sydney?" Lorrie asked in concern.

"He lied to you before," Jack continued quickly. "The doctor offered him some pain medication. He refused. Angrily."

"You looked scared when he started yelling," Lorrie commented pointedly. "Where you?"

This time, no one jumped in and kept her from answering.

"I…yes," she said softly.

"He doesn't hit you, does he?" Michael asked at the same time Jack asked, "Has he ever hit you?"

"No, he wouldn't." Michael didn't think she sounded as sure of herself as she should have. "He was…his eyes were…" She looked at Lorrie apologetically, then looked up at the two men. "I don't really want her to hear this," she pleaded. She didn't want Michael to hear it, either, but she thought she'd be lucky to get Lorrie away.

"I'm not leaving," Lorrie said steadily, looking only at Sydney. "I have as much right as _they_ do to hear what you say," she added, jerking her thumb at Jack and Michael.

Sydney threw one more pleading glance at Jack and Michael, then answered softly. "His eyes were weird. And his voice was…I don't know, harsh. I've never heard him use that tone before. He's never been set off that easily, either. For a few minutes…I was afraid he _would_ hit me," Sydney confessed.

Michael looked at Jack, but he shook his head.

"Do you trust him?" Jack asked.

The same fear Michael had seen earlier flashed in her eyes.

"No," she said quietly, looking at her hands in her lap.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Yay! _I _found another way to get rid of Danny! I told you Danny wouldn't get off with that one little hole in his shoulder…


	18. Be Safe

Chapter 18: Be Safe

Disclaimer: Nope. It's not mine.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this up! I know it's been longer than ten days, but it's a long story…Anyway, here ya go!

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Jack evaluated his daughter's response for a moment, then nodded to Michael and walked away. Michael sat down in the seat next to Sydney, and Lorrie stood behind him.

"Your father is telling Danny that you'll have to be checked out by the CIA and that it might take several days for them to release you. You will have to be checked out for any signs of after effects, but that will only take a couple of hours. Danny won't be allowed in the facility, Sydney. It'll give you some time to decide what you're going to do. Your father…and I…want you to be safe while you make your decision," Michael said gently.

"What about Lorrie?" Sydney said shakily, wary of the affection she'd heard in Michael's voice.

"You are her closest relative. That means that if you request it, the CIA will release her to me. I can bring her to the facility during the day, and she can stay with me until you're ready to leave, Michael said, signifying that he'd spent some time thinking about it.

"It doesn't sound like you're offering. It sounds like you're telling us this is how we're doing things," Sydney ventured.

"I'm telling you what I hope you'll do. But if you want, I can arrange for Lorrie to stay with you. They'll allow it, since she'll have to be checked out too. If nothing else, we can tell them we doubt your mental stability and want you watched."

"I am perfectly sane, thank you!" Sydney snapped, shocked. "I…"

"It's a precaution, Sydney. If both agents suggest that you may be mentally instable, they aren't too likely to boot you out before you're ready," Michael explained patiently.

"Oh," Sydney said meekly. "Could you leave us alone for a few minutes? Please?"

Michael nodded and stood. "Come find me when you're ready," he said before walking away.

Sydney watched him for several long moments, then looked over at Lorrie. 

"What do you want to do?" she asked. 

Lorrie shook her head. "It's up to you."

"Lorrie, what do you feel comfortable with? Do you _want_ to stay with Michael, or would you rather stay with me? I doubt the accommodations will be very comfortable," she warned with a slight grimace.

Lorrie answered slowly, weighing each word carefully. "I'd be comfortable with Michael. I like him. But I'd rather be with you, even if it _is _uncomfortable. Only if you don't think I might be in your way, though,"

Sydney smiled. "You'll never be in my way, Lorrie. If you'd rather stay with me, then that's where I want you."

Lorrie smiled too. "Thank you."

"Come on. Let's tell Michael what we've decided. You don't think he'll be disappointed, do you?"

"I think, may be, he likes having us around," Lorrie said with a grin.

"You think so? I'm starting to think so, too. Let's see," Sydney said with a matching grin as she stood up to find Michael.

*************************************************************************************

Sydney glanced anxiously at Lorrie, who sat huddled in the corner on the smaller of the two cots in the room, staring at the opposite wall, or may be into thin air.

Sydney was beginning to regret her decision to let Lorrie stay with her. She had been quieter and quieter in the two days they'd been in the CIA holding cell. Michael came to check on them two or three times a day, and Sydney was sure he was getting ready to take Lorrie out of there. Sydney knew she couldn't fault him if he came to that conclusion; the bare cement room with one completely clear wall was no place for a twelve-year-old girl, especially not one who'd been through what Lorrie had. Lorrie would undoubtedly be better off with Michael.

Besides, in worrying about Lorrie, Sydney hadn't thought much about her own predicament. She couldn't live with a man she was afraid of. Other than her own well being, she had to worry about Jaime, and now Lorrie. Jaime couldn't grow up in that type of environment. And she had to be honest with herself. Even if Danny never did anything else threatening again, she'd still have to live with the fear in the back of her mind that he _would._

__

Jaime must miss me, she thought suddenly. She knew that he was with Kaitlyn, and she loved him, but he needed him mother.

She needed to make a decision, not for her own well being, but for Jaime's and Lorrie's.

When Michael came in, she faced him with a new resolve. 

"We're leaving tomorrow," she told him stoically.

"Oh?" he said, mildly surprised. "What did you decide?" His interest was comfortingly friendly; he was like an old friend that only wanted to see her do what was best for her.

"I've decided that I can't put my life, as well as Jaime's and Lorrie's, on hold indefinitely. I have to move on and stop stalling," she said honestly, hoping it was satisfy him.

It obviously didn't. Michael saw right through her speech, and realized what she was doing. She had no clue what the hell she was going to do about Danny or otherwise. But she was none of his business. Michael didn't want to press her for information she was unwilling to give him. He knew his eyes became guarded again, something he knew he'd stopped doing around her, but he dismissed the thought.

Michael moved around the door, saying coldly, "I'll arrange for your departure." With no more than a nod to Lorrie, he left.

As he walked down the hall away from Sydney and Lorrie, he replayed what Sydney had said.

__

Fine. So she wants me to butt out, he thought finally. _I will._

The thought caused him more anguish than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

He stopped by Jack's office as he passed it.

"Go talk to your daughter," he advised, pausing in the doorway for only a few seconds.

Michael tried to go about his business, but he found that his mind consistently wandered elsewhere. Somewhere it had no right to be.

*************************************************************************************

Danny slammed impatiently around the kitchen, heating up a can of condensed soup for the second night in a row. Sydney had always made sure there was something ready when he got home; he was too tired to cook. He'd been in college the last time he'd had to resort to soup for a meal, and he hated it even more now than he had then. The whole thing made him mad.

What did the CIA think they were doing, holding his wife? She was fine; she should be home where she belonged. Danny was willing to bet that Vaughn character had something to do with it, and Bristow probably did too. Bristow had disliked him even before he'd married Sydney, and the marriage had only made it worse. Michael Vaughn clearly liked Sydney too much, and vice versa. It didn't help any that Michael disliked Danny as much as Bristow did.

Yeah, it was all a conspiracy, and Danny didn't like it one bit. Sydney was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she got home, because there was no was all that could be going on right under her nose and she not know about it.

*************************************************************************************

Sydney stayed awake long into the night. She could see Lorrie sleeping restlessly across the room, and that only added to her dilemma.

She still didn't know what she was going to do. She had a potentially life-altering decision to make, and she was all too aware that it would affect more than just her if she made the wrong one. It would hurt Jaime and Lorrie too.

All of which only brought her back to the only conclusion she's come to: she couldn't afford to make the wrong decision.

She moaned and shook her head, then, abandoning all pretense of sleep, stood up and started pacing room. It was small, only allowing her to go four or five paces one way before having to turn and retrace those steps.

Several minutes later, Lorrie was awakened by the sound of Sydney muttering under her breath. Lorrie frowned, causing a single crease to appear on her forehead.

Sitting up, she said quietly, "Sydney? Are you okay?" she started slightly when Sydney stopped in front of her abruptly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm fine. Go back to sleep," Sydney said distractedly.

"I'm awake now. Besides, I couldn't sleep with you pacing," Lorrie said in a matter-of-fact tone that Sydney had become accustomed to having directed at her. Lorrie stood up beside Sydney. "Michael didn't buy your that whole thing about needing to move on, and neither did I."

Sydney was a little surprised by her sudden comment. "What do you mean?" she asked curiously, despite the certainty that she was about to see every one of her antics in the last few days torn apart before her eyes by a twelve year old.

"You said all that stuff to Michael so he'd let you…and me…leave. None of it was what he was looking for, though. And when your father was in here, he didn't buy your indignant 'I Don't Need Your Approval' speech. Michael knows, your dad knows, and I know, you don't have half a clue what you're going to do tomorrow," Lorrie said, her calm, smooth tone as disturbing as her words and her observations.

"Okay. You win. I don't know." Sydney rubbed at her temples for a moment. "Lorrie, I know you don't understand this, but we have to leave whether I want to or not," Sydney said desperately.

"I'll…I'll stay with Michael."

Lorrie seemed so definite that it took Sydney a few moments to respond. When she did, it wasn't more than a sputter.

"Why?"

"So you can stay here. So you'll be ready," she said, once again amazing Sydney with the things she picked up on. But Lorrie was fighting to hold onto her calm tone. If Sydney needed to be alone, she would leave her alone…

"No."

Lorrie's control snapped then, but not in the way she expected. Instead of shedding tears, she was angry. That one word answer, the obvious dismissal of what she'd offered, the blatant absence of an explanation…it was not only unfair, it was just…_wrong_.

Sydney watched as Lorrie's face hardened, a clear indicator of her mindset. She stubbornly crossed her arms, completing the picture.

"You said I could decide where I wanted to stay. You said if I wanted to be here, then you wanted me here." Lorrie's flat, angry tone alerted Sydney. "If I don't want to be here, what then?" Lorrie asked slowly, her tone clearly challenging. And almost cold.

Sydney sighed, suddenly exhausted.

"Everything is already in motion, Lorrie. We leave tomorrow." Sydney's voice held a distinctly hurt tone that made Lorrie instantly regret what she'd said.

Eyes downcast, Lorrie mumbled, "Okay" softly. As she settled on her cot, she wondered if Sydney had even heard her, because she didn't react or respond.

Lorrie didn't get back to sleep. She was too busy worrying that she's just alienated her one ally.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Poor Lorrie. It's good to be back, though.

Too bad I've finished writing the story and all I have to do is type it…I feel so _lost_ without my characters!


	19. At Least Warn Me

Chapter 19: At Least Warn…Me

Disclaimer: When all the characters in my story belong solely to me, I'll let you know, k?

A/N: I miss my characters…And I like that idea, BudgetBuddy…a very pleasant thought…

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Michael slipped in very early, hoping to talk to Sydney before any official gofer was sent to tell her of her release.

__

That's not it, his conscience prodded infuriatingly.

__

Fine. I want to know what she's doing, alright? he thought, only vaguely worried that he was arguing with himself.

While he stood outside the door waiting for the guard to let him in, he studied Sydney. She lay on her cot, but her eyes were wide open. She still hadn't seen him, so he could see worry etched in her face, along with confusion, indecision, and raw emotional pain. All of which reinforced what he'd felt he day before after her cryptic answers to all of his questions. According to the three line note he's found in his car the night before, she'd avoided all of Jack's questions as well. Which, strangely, offered some comfort.

Sydney jerked to a sitting position, armed with a scowl, when the buzzer announcing someone opening the door buzzed loudly. She glared at him, and he stood calmly just inside the door.

Sydney was angry at him at first for the intrusion. Michael's arrival had interrupted her train of thought, which had been, for the first time in days, been taking her somewhere somewhat useful. Then she softened; he looked unexpectedly sweet, and he seemed to be waiting to be invited before coming further in.

She smiled slightly despite her intention. "You want to sit down?" she asked, patting the cot.

Michael grinned and perched on the end of the cot. He wanted to appear comfortable, but not comfortable enough to scare her off. He definitely would have liked to have been much closer.

Still holding a slight grin, he said, "You'll be leaving today. Official word won't get around until at least noon, knowing these people. You can leave with me when I get off."

Lorrie woke to Michael's voice and, by pretending to shift in her sleep, turned to hear them better . The movement might remind them she was there, but they'd assume that she was still asleep. And who knew what Michael might say to Sydney that he might not say if he knew she was listening.

"Thank you," Sydney was saying simply, ignoring the blatant absence of _where _ she could leave with him _to._

Michael ventured the question, unsure what else to do, which was odd for a man used to interrogating witnesses and suspects and getting the answers her wanted. "What have you decided?"

Sydney looked at him steadily. "You never said I had to tell you my decision. I never offered. I think that, while you've been very helpful to me, this is a rather personal decision." She stared, daring him to argue.

Lorrie opened her eyes just enough to see that Michael's back was to her, so she opened them wide and watched them. If Sydney looked, she'd see her, and then might think twice about avoiding Michael so keenly. Hopefully, she'd realize Lorrie wouldn't hesitate to say something. Because she wouldn't.

Michael planned his next words carefully.

"I think you owe it to me, or at least your father, to let one of us know what's going on before we let you leave here," he said slowly, dropping his voice just far enough below normal tones to make an impact.

Lorrie had almost decided to intervene when Sydney looked her was in avoiding Michael's gaze. Lorrie grinned, then quickly gave Sydney a look that said, "_Well? I'm waiting…"_

Sydney took a deep breath, allowing herself a few more moments to gather her wits.

"Michael, I need you to promise that if I tell you the truth, you'll still let me do what I want," Sydney pleaded.

Michael, thinking he was getting just what he wanted, smiled gently and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Syd, it's your decision. I promise, no matter what it is, I won't stand in you way."

Sydney smiled weakly, and Lorrie frowned, realizing what she was doing to Michael.

"Michael, I haven't decided what to do about Danny yet," Sydney confided guiltily. "All I know is that I can't stay here, and I can't keep Lorrie here."

Michael's face fell, and Lorrie jumped up.

"Michael, you can't let her leave! I'll stay with you, I'm the reason she wants to leave!" Lorrie cried, surprising Michael both with her boisterous outburst and her sudden appearance in front of him.

"Michael, you promised," Sydney reminded him softly.

Michael's face took on a pained expression, then became resigned. "Jack's order to have you released had already been approved. He is in a position of some authority, but he couldn't' pull the order now without inviting some unwelcome questions," Michael said, hoping that Sydney didn't hear the regret in his voice, and at the same time hoping Lorrie ded.

When nobody seemed to have anything else to say, Michael reluctantly rose to leave. He signaled the guard and, while waiting for him to open the door, said, "I'll see you around five."

Lorrie frowned at Sydney for several moments, then sat of the cot and asked, mischief sparkling in her eyes, "Has anyone ever called you Syd?"

Sydney completely missed the warning signs and walked right into the girl's trap. 

"I had a boyfriend in high school who did," she said.

"It sounds sort of like an affectionate nickname, huh?" Lorrie asked, the frown morphing into a smirk.

Sydney, still oblivious, shrugged. "I guess. Since he's the only one to ever call me that, it makes sense."

Lorrie's smirk expanded into a full fledged mischief filled smile.

"Michael called you Syd," she said happily. "I _knew_ it! He likes you!" she continued in a sing song voice.

"What?!? When did he do that?!? He does not!" Sydney sputtered, not having a clue where to start on _that_ one.

"When you made him promise not to stop you." Lorrie giggled. "To think, if I'd been staying with him all along I might have missed this!"

"You little sneak!" Sydney snarled good-naturedly. "You were awake the whole time, weren't you?"

"Not the _whole_ time…just from where he said we could leave with him. That's pretty much it, right?" Lorrie grinned.

Finally, Sydney grinned back. 

"Lorrie, I really should do _something_ with you, but you make it impossible to know _what_ to do!" Sydney said, exasperated.

*************************************************************************************

Michael chose to work where that morning where he could stake out Jack's office as well. After nearly an hour of getting nothing done due to the fact that he never took his eyes off of Bristow's door, he finally entered his office. Michael gave him all of three minutes to settle in before storming the place.

"Agent Vaughn, what the…" Jack began.

"Do you have any idea what your daughter is up to?!?" Michael said, much louder than necessary in the small office.

"I just came from speaking with her, actually," Jack said calmly. "She is still dodging my questions."

"She intends to walk into that house with _no idea _what her own intentions are, and therefore _we_ have no idea what she's going to do!" Jack didn't seem nearly as upset over the matter as Michael was, so he continued. "Jack, you know as much about profiling as I do! You cannot tell me that everything we know about Danny doesn't point to a violent person!"

Jack stood calmly to face Michael. The slight smile tugging at the corners of Jack's mouth left Michael feeling more than a little disconcerted.

"We have to let Sydney do this her own way. She'll never forgive you if you interfere," he added slyly.

"Damn it, Jack, you could have at least warned me what I was dealing with!" Michael growled with the sudden realization that Jack had known what was going on ever before the people _involved_ had known.

That fleeting smile returned. "I thought you'd have more fun finding out on your own."

"Like hell," Michael muttered as he left. 

It would seem he and Jack had reached a new level of…understanding. It was a scary thing, Michael decided.

And he had missed the grin on Jack's face as he watched him walk out. Jack had decided that he liked him far more than Danny…

*************************************************************************************

The tension was so thick in the cab of the small black pickup that you could probably reach out and touch it if you wanted, Lorrie thought irritably.

Sydney faced the passenger window, Michael stared straight ahead, and Lorrie was stuck in the middle. She sighed loudly, leaned back, and crossed her arms huffily.

"I wish you two would talk, instead of making a conscious effort _not_ to," she complained.

Sydney sighed as well, but didn't speak.

Michael sighed, then snapped, "You two are the two most impossible females I've ever met!"

"What did we do?" Sydney asked innocently.

"That sighing," he said shortly.

"You sighed too," Lorrie pointed out.

"Right. But you two do it knowing it'll get you what you want," Michael argued.

"You're just jealous because women claim that talent," Sydney accused.

Another silence fell, but most of the tension had dissipated.

"Syd, are you sure you want to do this?" Michael asked a few minutes later. "It's not your only option, you know."

"Oh? And what are my other options?" she challenged.

His face reddened, but his voice was level when he said, "You could stay with me."

"Let me do this, Michael," Sydney said, her cheeks showing a tinge of pink she turned away to hide. As appealing as that prospect was, she had to do this now. She had to figure out her life. "Is Jaime still with Kaitlyn?" she asked after a few moments.

"Yeah. Danny didn't go get him, and I wasn't going to leave a baby with the guy," Michael answered.

"Can we go get him before you take me home? If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"No problem," he said, swinging the truck onto the road leading to the day care.

"How was your trip?" Kaitlyn asked when Sydney walked in. Michael, standing behind her with Lorrie, noticed the woman seemed a little wary. She 

"My trip?" Sydney said carefully.

"Yeah. Danny said your went to see your mother…?" 

She probably had been told at some point that Laura Bristow was "dead".

"Oh!" Sydney said with a laugh as she took Jaime into her arms. "You must have heard wrong. I went to stay with _his _ mother. She was a little under the weather, and he just couldn't get off for that long." She shrugged. "I couldn't leave her alone, could I?"

Kaitlyn smiled, visibly put at ease. "Oh, of course not. Will Jaime be here tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure," Sydney said readily. "I have a few more days I can take off, so I might stay home tomorrow. I'd hate to have to have to leave him again so sure."

Michael smothered a grin. She was convincing, and he'd forgotten to even _mention_ that she might want to keep her ordeal to herself.

He laughed as they walked outside into the bright sunlight.

"That was fun. Who knew you were so quick on your feet?" he laughed.

"Who knew you could lie so convincingly?" Lorrie added with a grin.

"Are you really planning on taking tomorrow off?" Michael asked.

"You bet. And may be the next day, too. If I feel real wild, the whole week," Sydney said. "Lorrie, we're going to be so far behind we'll never get caught up she added, laughing.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Only 1 more chapter and an epilogue, folks! And for all you S/V shippies like myself, you're going to love this ending! Kind of Harlequin Romance meets Alias…(Hey, it's not as if I'm telling you something you didn't know! I told you at the start I was a S/V shippie!)


	20. I Told Her

Chapter 20: I Told Her

Disclaimer: I'll let you know when I write a story that is completely mine to do with as I wish…which may be in the near future!

A/N: For those of you who wish to see Danny impaled with a fork, I'm sorry to say it's not going to happen. I'm sure you'll enjoy what _does_ happen, though!

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"You're sure, Syd?"

Sydney had climbed out of his truck and was for Lorrie to get out.

"Positive. Michael, I have to do this now."

"Fine. But if you need anything…?"

"I won't hesitate to call you. I have your cell number."

"Even if you don't need anything, call me, okay?"

"Michael, I'll call you by the end of this week. Now go. I'll be fine," Sydney ordered.

He watched her dig her spare house key out of a cactus plant by the door, and refused to pull away until she had the door open. When she turned, waved shortly, and crossed her arms, he finally drove away.

Danny pulled into the drive about fifteen minutes after Michael left. Sydney found herself wringing her hands nervously.

"What are you going to say?" Lorrie asked softly, concern evident both in her voice and her eyes.

"Whatever comes to mind," she replied. "Why don't you take Jaime into his room?"

"And stay out of the way?" Lorrie asked, taking Jaime from his mother.

"I'd appreciate it."

Sydney was sitting at the kitchen table alone when Danny walked in.

"Sydney!" he exclaimed, plastering on a smile. "How long have you been home?"

"Only a few minutes," she answered flatly, not responding to either his kiss or hid hug.

He sat down across from her.

"Did they treat you okay?" he asked.

"Fine." She couldn't quite meet his gaze.

"What's wrong, honey?" His demanding tone was enough to convince her what she had to do.

"Danny…I want a divorce," she blurted.

Danny shot up, towering over her.

"What the hell is that about?!?" he roared.

She stood carefully, consciously separating her hands.

"I want a divorce, Danny," she said steadily. She moved back a step so he wasn't so close.

A manipulative grin appeared on Danny's face.

"You've had a rough time these past few days," he said, his voice sympathetic except for the angry undertone. "A nice, long sleep in your own bed will make you see things differently," he told her as if she were a child.

He eyes widened as she realized what he suggested. When he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the living room, she jerked away.

"No, Danny!" she said, her voice sharper than she had anticipated.

His countenance lost the facade of tenderness and became just mean.

"Come on, honey. Don't do this," he ordered.

He grabbed her arm again, and again she jerked away. She saw his hand go up.

"No!" she cried.

Lorrie had just put Jaime in his crib when she heard them start to argue. She heard Sydney cry out, ,then a slap. She thought she heard a gasp, then the next thing she heard was a crash. 

Without a thought to herself or the possible consequences, Lorrie shot out of Jaime's room and up the hall.

*************************************************************************************

Michael just felt wrong about leaving Sydney alone. Well, not _alone_, but the presence of Lorrie and Jaime just made the situation worse.

He'd driven a full ten minutes when the feeling became so strong he turned around. He'd learned to trust his instincts as an agent, and this was one time when he was _afraid_ not to trust them.

He wondered idly if Sydney was going to be mad when he showed back up. She had seemed to want to be alone, but hopefully she'd understand his concern.

What if he was too late?

That thought entered his mind unbidden, and he didn't like it. He didn't know if anything had happened, or if Danny was even there yet, and he was worrying about being too late…

She really wasn't any of his business. He should leave her alone, because she wanted to be left alone.

But he just couldn't do that.

As he turned onto Sydney's street, he recognized Danny's car in the driveway. Instincts that had nothing to do with being an agent drove him to jump out of his truck almost before he'd put it in park.

The same instant he reached the door, he heard a crash, and he swung open the door and took in the scene in a split second.

There was an end table overturned and the lamp that had been sitting on it smashed. Sydney was sprawled next to the table, and, from her position, Michael figured she'd probably hit her head on the table. Danny stood over her, glaring down. And Lorrie was darting out of the hall.

Sydney saw Lorrie and started to get up, but as soon as she moved Danny moved further over her, hampering her movement. Michael moved to tackle Danny before he hit Sydney again. Sydney somehow got up and started to dart past Danny to grab Lorrie, but wound up between Michael and Danny. Lorrie launched herself at Danny and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Michael crashed into Sydney, who in turn landed on Danny, and Lorrie got dragged down with them. Lorrie screeched, Danny roared, Michael growled, and Sydney, surprised by the initial impact, gasped, then, as she was crushed between the men, Michael heard her make a sound like a whimper.

They landed in a heap, Michael shoved Sydney away, and she grabbed Lorrie and pulled her out of the fray. Lorrie and Sydney watched wordlessly as Michael and Danny rolled around, neither gaining the upper hand nor doing much damage to the other at first.

Danny had a slight advantage over Michael in the way of size and weight, but Michael had the advantage of extensive self-defense training. It didn't take Michael long to maneuver into a position where he could deliver a solid blow to Danny's left temple, leaving him out cold.

Michael stood, breathless and disheveled, and had the nerve to grin at Sydney. She was gaping at him, afraid he'd really hurt Danny, angry that he'd come back and just walked right into her house, aching all over from being body slammed, and yet almost glad for all of it. For no reason she could or even wanted to explain, she grinned back.

The next thing Sydney knew, she was in a bone-crushing hug. She winced at first, realizing her shoulder hurt, but then gave as good as she got. She didn't care that she couldn't breathe, or that every one of her ribs hurt every time she moved.

Even though she didn't really want to fight him anymore, she mumbled, "I would have been fine."

"The hell you would. See why I wanted to know what you were doing?" he whispered back. "What _did_ you say?" he added, releasing her so he could see her face.

"I…told him I wanted a divorce," she said, grinning. Feeling like a fool, but still grinning.

"I'm glad," Michael said.

Suddenly, they all heard the sound of a baby crying.

"Hold that thought," Sydney said quickly, disappearing down the hall.

"I told her. She didn't believe me, but I told her," Lorrie said softly. She hid a grin.

Michael had almost forgotten she was there.

"What did you tell her?" he asked, eyeing her warily.

Lorrie smiled. "I told her you liked her. Several times, actually. But she never believed me."

"Great. How come you never told me anything?" he asked jokingly.

"Because she didn't like you at all for a while," she answered seriously, enjoying the look of surprise on his face. "Not until today. You got on her nerves, made her mad all the time." She shrugged. "Can you blame her?"

He sighed when he realized she expected an answer. 

"I guess not. I gave her plenty of reasons not to like me." 

"That's one way to put it," she mumbled as Sydney came back in.

"Um, what do we do about Danny?" Sydney asked, curious as to Michael's opinion.

"He'll be out for a while. What do you want to do about him? We could call the police and file abuse charges," Michael suggested, gently but with a certain conviction of justice in the statement.

Sydney looked at Danny, a sadness creeping into her eyes. She shook her head, and when she looked up her eyes were clear again.

"I don't want to do that. That sort of charge could ruin his career," Sydney said.

"So your not the vengeful type," Michael murmured, mostly to himself. "Well, you could just leave, and file for divorce on your own."

She looked at him for a moment, obviously trying to decide.

"Where would I go?" she asked, watching him closely.

"You'd stay with me." he watched her open her mouth to say something, so added, "You'd _all_ stay with me, Syd."

Sydney smiled a slow smile, looked over at Lorrie, who winked and grinned, then looked back to Michael.

"Okay. Thank you, Michael."

He moved closer and held her by her shoulders and, leaning around the baby, kissed her cheek.

"No problem," he whispered, then stepped back.

"I…I guess we should pack some stuff. If we leave now we can't really come back for a while," Sydney said, flustered. "Uh, do you want to go with Lorrie so she can pack some stuff?" she added, figuring Lorrie wouldn't want to be in her house alone.

Michael glanced disdainfully at Danny, who still lay motionless, uneasily.

"You said he'd be out for a while," Sydney reminded him.

"Still, I'd rather stick around. Go ahead and get your stuff, then we can all get out of here together," Michael suggested protectively.

"I'd be fine," Sydney said with a grin before she started down the hall.

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Yeah! Danny is down for the count! Now, if Danny had impaled himself on a fork, BudgetBuddy, I couldn't have let Michael hit him! And we can all safely say he's wanted to do just that for a while! Wasn't that fun?

I'm really enjoying this now, I love writing romance! What kind of self-respecting Alias addict wouldn't like writing about Syd and Michael falling in love and Michael knocking out her current husband?


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do have a story in the works that is solely my property, but this isn't it.

A/N: *SOBS* This is the last chapter! This has been my favorite story so far, and now I can understand why some real authors write tons of books with the same characters!

One more thing: BudgetBuddy, I know you mean well, but some of your reviews sound almost mocking! Lol. "Aw how cute…" That's okay; at least you review, right? Enjoy!

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Two days after leaving her home and her husband, Sydney still wasn't ready to go back to her daily life. Her father, Michael told her, hadn't liked the idea of her being left alone any more than Michael had, so he helped Michael arrange for time off. Lorrie had convinced Sydney she'd be okay, and probably better off, going back to school, and Sydney had decided that she'd interrupted Jaime's schedule enough and taken him to day-care.

Michael had been wonderful for her. Sometimes, she felt the conviction that she'd never have been able to handle it all without him there. He never seemed to want anything from her in return. Or, he didn't want her to know he wanted anything. She liked the latter option better, she mused as she grabbed a soda from Michael's considerably under stocked fridge.

Sydney could see him sitting on the couch with his laptop in the living room, since only a counter separated the living room from the miniscule kitchen in his small apartment. She almost laughed as she remembered exactly how small it had seemed when faced with the task of sleeping three extra people. Because she'd flat out refused to take his room just slightly more extensively than he'd insisted she take it, she was sleeping on the couch, Lorrie was sleeping on the floor, and Jaime was sleeping in his playpen that was pushed as far into the corner as it would go to allow _some_ movement in the room.

Hiding a grin, Sydney joined Michael on the couch.

"What's up?" she asked as he frowned.

"Huh? Oh, I just can't locate a file I need for this report. There are supposed to be all these blocks to keep people from moving files around, so you'd think you could find an important file when you needed it, but those are always the files that mysteriously relocate," he muttered, making it clear that he hadn't missed the humor of what he'd said by grinning.

"Sounds like the school. Administrative controls coming out our ears, but those kids still manage to delete vital programs," Sydney laughed.

Michael laughed too, thinking of the damage a not-too-computer-savvy friend of his had done his first week as an agent. He'd managed to crash the entire CIA network for more than two hours, and the computer experts still had never figured out how he'd done it.

A thoughtful silence fell, and Michael was vaguely surprised when Sydney sighed, thinking back to his analysis of those sighs.

"What?" he asked, setting his computer down and turning slightly to face her.

She looked up like she didn't realize she had sighed out loud. Then she shifted to an apologetic grin.

"I was just thinking I'm not doing real well moving past all this," she said with feigned nonchalance.

Michael closed his hand over hers before he even realized he'd moved. "Syd, it's a lot to get past. You'll find your own way of doing that." He wondered if she was as aware of the electric feel of the room as he was. He didn't have to wonder long. 

Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "Are you sure that was a good move?" Her face was fast becoming flushed.

His reaction was mainly to blush, too. "Probably…not." He couldn't stop a grin, even though he felt pretty silly.

She moved closer to him, and he put his arm around her and held her close.

"Syd…" he said slowly, moving his hand up and down her shoulder unconsciously. "This is…" He trailed off nervously.

"This is…right," Sydney mumbled, closing her eyes and savoring the sheer nearness of him.

Suddenly Michael pulled back and held her at arms length.

"Syd, a bad decision can last forever," he warned before he passed the point of no return.

She smiled sweetly, dismissing his warning.

"And sometimes, Michael, good decisions last forever, too."

Slowly, his smile broadened to match hers; not the crooked, almost mischievous grin Sydney loved, but an honest-to-God smile.

They stared into each other's eyes for long minutes, each sure of what they felt and searching the other for the same intensity.

A fleeting thought of the divorce papers she'd signed only hours before crossed her mind before Michael whispered her name in a final question of consent.

"This is right," she said softly.

He grinned, shot to his feet, and scooped her up in his arms. She squealed in delight and surprise and clasped her arms around his neck. She grinned up at him, and he grinned down at her. 

His grin was _definitely_ full of mischief this time.

Before all rational thought was lost to her, Sydney decided that many of the major decisions she'd made in her life had been wrong. It was nice to finally understand what it was like to make a decision that was inarguably, undoubtedly, unquestionably, _right._ Nice just didn't do it justice, but that was all she had just then.

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I have one final question for you all. Does it sound like I worked the title into this, or that I got the title _from_ this? I think it sound like the complete opposite of what I actually did, and I'd just like to know. Thanks!


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